Jedi Legends: The Shroud of the Dark Side
by QueenYoda
Summary: Book six in the Jedi legends series. Seven years of isolation in the Tatooine deserts has passed for the remaining Skywalkers. The Sith are sole authority, and the Light Side fades with each passing day. When Anakin and the others are finally captured by Sidious, they discover truths that threaten to end hope for the galaxy. When the grandfather clock goes out, darkness will fall.
1. Chapter 1

_"Somehow myself survived the night and entered with the day, that it be saved the saved suffice without the formula. Henceforth I take my living place as one commuted led, a candidate for morning chance but dated with the dead."_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

**_Twelve years after the rise of the Empire:_**

~Anakin's POV~

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" The small crowd somehow managed to roar with the voice of thousands, happily, as Luke and Leia Skywalker leaned forward to blow out the candles shining on their humble cake.

Anakin Skywalker, a now thirty-five-year-old father, leaned against the wall towards the back of the meager house. He had learned through hard wisdom over the years that being in Padme's way while she was taking pictures was _not_ a good idea.

Now, he chuckled softly as Padme jostled and shoved the others out of her way so that she could get every angle of the twins while they cut their cake, eliciting small chuckles and good-natured teasing. Anakin patted the saber hidden at his hip, reflecting that later, he would give Luke and Leia their real present. They were ready for it.

The Twins were twelve-year-olds, as of today. It was a fact Anakin was still trying to wrap around his mind. It seemed as if only yesterday they had been born in _The Twilight,_ held securely in Padme's arms. Nava, Intrepid and Ahsoka by her side. Padme herself was thirty-nine. If Ahsoka were here now she would be twenty-three…

Anakin shook his head, dispensing of those thoughts. Even after all this time, it was still too painful to think about for too long. His heart still bled for them, but the past was the past, and he knew that his family would not want him to indulge in grief for their sakes. Still… Seven years. It had been _seven _years since the death of the Jedi Order.

And every morning Anakin still woke up, hoping that all of it had been a dream. That maybe he would walk into the kitchen and see Obi-wan cooking breakfast back in their house on Biyalia, or even in the space station where they had made their home after Biyalia was destroyed.

Clones and volunteers would be filing about, swarming the kitchen and overall being a menace to the family, but an accepted and amusing part of the day. Nava would be boiling water for tea at the counter, chatting away with Padme cheerily.

Rex would waltz in with Cody, Luke and Leia on his heels, once more bragging about the Twins. Ahsoka and Lux would walk in, still talking with their spy networks through their comm. links busily. Intrepid would walk in after them, a data pad in her hands as she scanned a new mission briefing.

And yet every morning Anakin woke up to find that this familiar and longed for panorama had been the real dream all along, and always, _always_ his cheeks were wet as he sat up in bed.

Seven years was a long time to grieve, where it should not have been. From what information Anakin had managed to glean about grief over the years under Jedi tutelage where grief was hidden, but not unheard of, was that eventually, it settled, did not go away, but became easier to bear.

Yet for all his trying…It was just as heart wrenching as it had been that day over five years ago.

"Anakin! What are you doing back here? Go get some cake before it's all taken!" Beru laughed as she walked past him, carrying the wobbling pile of dirty dishes from their celebration. He smiled gently, glad of the interruption from his contemplation.

Her long and dust-caked russet hair was tied into a neat bun behind her head, yet her face glowed with cheer. It was not often they had guests. And though the family was the farthest thing from rich, she had worn her best dress for the occasion, and content shined in her bright eyes.

Anakin took some of the stack from her obligingly. "I think it's too late for that Beru," he pointed out to his always kind sister-in-law, jerking his head to the now empty of crumb or frosting cake pan. Beru laughed and shook her head.

"You should still try to have some fun! Owen, come get your stepbrother to lighten up!" she called to Anakin's stepbrother, who turned to cast him an inquisitive look.

Anakin and the surviving members of his family had taken refuge with Anakin's Tatooine half family, who generously and eagerly had accepted them into their home.

Anakin had never considered himself farmer material, but Owen had showed him that he at least had a green thumb, if only it was a _slightly_ tinted green thumb. He grinned at his brother as Owen walked over. "Can you believe they're twelve already?" Owen asked with a wistful sigh.

Anakin shook his head. "I don't know whoever gave them permission to go and _grow_. We're getting old, Owen," he told his brother ruefully. Owen laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Maybe you are, stepbrother, but I am the_ picture_ of youth, thank you," Anakin snorted dubiously and followed Beru into the kitchen with his dishes.

Though Owen naturally had a baby face, the years of hardship due to farming had taken its long overdue toll, and wrinkles rested on the edges of his stepbrother's eyes. Anakin, too, had aged, though according to Padme not by much.

His skin had darkened a bit from exposure to sun, the scar over his left eye dulled further, his azure eyes had darkened with hardship, sparkled with added wisdom, and he no longer had the soft innocent look about him, but other than that she assured him he could still be a twenty-five year old. He didn't_ feel_ twenty five, but force, neither did he feel thirty.

Then again, he didn't feel as much as he had used too.

Anakin brushed a hand against his chin; he needed to shave again, soon. He had attempted to grow a beard once, while Padme, the twins and Beru were out in Mos Eisley bartering. It had been an experiment, really.

Once it had fattened out to a neat fluff on his chin, he had finally allowed himself to look in the mirror, smiling at the thought of Padme's face when she saw it…And broke down into sobs at the face, which was too horrendously, agonizingly close to another's familiar features for him to bear.

He had sheared it off, and never tried to grow a beard since.

Handing Beru the rest of her stack, he walked back into the main room and smiled as he noticed the twelve year olds talking and laughing with the few neighborhood friends they had managed to make.

Only a few people in the room knew that Luke and Leia were Force sensitive. That their mother was the new leader of the Rebel Alliance, that their father was the last Jedi Knight in the galaxy, that they were all destined for much greater things than being farmers.

Anakin smiled as Shantra Pallas assisted Padme in taking pictures, the two women fussing and cooing over the embarrassed twins in the mindset of mothers. Once, during every birthday, this job would fall solely to Nava Venerate to help Padme fuss. Yet those times were long gone.

"Father! Mother's embarrassing us!" Luke begged for assistance. Anakin chuckled happily and crossed his arms. "Padme, you're embarrassing my children," he scolded, to the crowd's amusement.

Padme Amidala, still glowing with the health and beauty of an angel, turned to give him a mock glare. There were lines beneath her dark chocolate eyes, being leader of the Rebel Alliance left one with an aching apprehension against sleep. They were always at risk of being caught by the stormtroopers that patrolled every planet. Once, those men had been his soldiers, his friends…

Now they were traitors, lower than the sand that covered all of Tatooine. He despised them with a hatred that was hard to ignore whenever he saw the gleam of their white armor in the unforgiving sun.

That time was gone, and Anakin found he ached for it as well as he ached for the people that had been present in it.

Yet there was no going back. _Keep your mind in the here and now where it belongs,_ he told him firmly. He was Jedi, the last Jedi in the galaxy actually, he had no time for regrets, no time to grieve what was past. He had only time to balance out a better future. "They are her children and she will mortify them at will, thank you clueless male," Shantra informed him huffily, in Padme's defense. The old nickname inspired laughter from the others as Anakin raised his palms in surrender and nodded.

"Sorry, guys," he told Luke and Leia. "But what can I say? I'm outnumbered," he apologized with a teasing smile. "We shall be brave, father," Luke intoned gravely, expression somber. The crowd collapsed into peals of laughter as Padme rolled her eyes. Anakin chuckled softly.

Despite the fact that he loathed Tatooine for it's continued reminders of his childhood, Luke and Leia thrived here, having inherited Padme's ability to adapt to any environment or circumstance easily.

Their quick humor and ready smiles were rare on a planet where everyone seemed to suffer, where greed and malice were fast-growing weeds. He was proud of his children. Already, they were naturally ahead of what they should have been with their Jedi training.

Force skills, memory, lightsaber training, even diplomacy skills they were strikingly accelerating in, faster than even Anakin had at their age. His chest swelled with pride to see them now, each catering to their various guests with the fluttering generosity that he had always struggled to instill in them. He was well aware that they sometimes snuck food and other supplies to the slaves still present in the city.

Not that he didn't, too, but they need not know that.

He crossed his arms as Padme finally relented her teasing, leaving the rest in the capable hands of Shantra as she walked towards, him a smile plastered on her face. Anakin watched her, his own heart lifting, as it always did when she grabbed his hand.

"They're not babies anymore, Ani," Padme whispered softly when he kissed her forehead. She was just so beautiful, inside and out. He wished he could give her a better life. Wished he could treat her like the queen she would always be in his heart, in reality.

Anakin nodded sadly and peered at his children with melancholy. Force, where had the time gone? What happened to those tiny bodies that had once been so small he could hold them in one arm? What happened to smiling faces and curious eyes that knew not pain or anguish?

"Soon Luke will be into girls and Leia will bring a nice boy home," Padme sniffled, blinking rapidly to clear her eyes of the tears that had formed. Anakin watched her tenderly. He had his own opinions on this boy nonsense Padme seemed so excited about.

"I think Anakin would rather keep her locked in a tower before he willingly let her bring a boy home," Owen observed as he walked past, caring in the boxes of small and poorly wrapped but heartfelt presents from their friends inside of the small room.

"Owen, you read my mind," Anakin agreed. Padme, though, hadn't been listening. She sighed as he wrapped an arm around her waist and rested his chin on her head, inhaling the sweet scent that she carried naturally.

After all this time away from her beloved home planet, she still smelled like the field where they had first fallen in love, like the veranda where they had shared their first kiss. The memories made him smile happily. He had never been so grateful to anyone ever before. Padme had not only given him her love, but a family to top it. A family he loved seeing grow and outreach, sad as it may have been to know time had passed him by.

"Then they'll go to college. A good, privately owned college not one of these star-forsaken Sidious institutes," Padme went on lamentably. Anakin nodded in agreement, basking in her scent. "Oh, Ani, why can't they be babies anymore? I used to rock them to sleep at night and they didn't have a care in the universe but to figure out how to blow up blenders," Anakin laughed at_ those_ memories.

"Are you sure you want to go back to the days of blender bombs?" he asked impishly. Padme gave it a second of thought. "Well, maybe not that far," she conceded to Anakin's amusement.

Luke and one of his friends Lunar spoke quietly, probably scheming on their future as Anakin used to do with his friends. What they were going to do, the planets they would see, the pod-races they would win.

Light and Peace knew what their future would hold; just as he had been so sure of it when he was their age, but they could still dream for a more peaceful existence. Padme huffed beneath him.

He could feel her breathing, her back against his chest. Slowly, in and out, in and out. He marveled at the incredible talents of the human body. How could something so simple as lungs, heart, brain and veins support such an amazing soul?

How could they be essential to a life so beautiful? They were luminous beings, not gross matter, but the gross matter certainly was at fault for keeping the luminous being where it's brightness could spread such love. He sighed contentedly.

Suddenly, the warm joy mixed with bittersweet content around Padme dropped into longing. She leaned her head against his chest and looked up at him with dark brown eyes. "It's going to be time soon, Ani," she muttered forlornly, eyes dark with foreboding, haunted with a mother's worry.

Anakin nodded solemnly. "In a few years, maybe when they turn sixteen or seventeen," he agreed softly, glancing round to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

Padme looked back at the twins, and Anakin knew that she felt the same as he did. How could these two children, mere babies a few years earlier, help defeat the Sith Empire where an entire Order had failed?

Why did it have to be _his_ children that helped bring balance to the Force?

Anakin huffed, sorry that he had been the one to bring this burden upon them, that because they were force sensitive they now shared his horrid destiny. But it was the will of the Force, the only way to free the galaxy, the only way to make sure the Jedi and their lives had not gone in vain. Both of them knew this. All of them knew it intimately. Grief taught its own tales.

Padme sighed and nodded. "Nava would be so proud of them," she glanced up at him, a poignant smile playing around her lips. "And you," she whispered. Anakin smiled back. He was not the only one who thought of them. "Sadness ill becomes you," he told her softly, hoping to steer her thoughts away from painful things this day. What was the past was the past.

"Especially this day. Save it for later. For the moment, Shantra turn up the music!" he called over to his friend, who grinned and hurried to comply. Anakin let go of Padme, instead bowing to her low, hand sweeping the ground. "May I have this dance, my angel?" he asked as the music blared into existence, gently waving the memories of sorrow away for another time.

Music did that. Padme giggled and curtsied. "It would be my pleasure, my Knight," she said softly. Then, listening to the rhythm of the music, letting it cleanse his soul temporarily of the burdens and shackles of anguish placed on it, he whisked her away.

_**Later:**_

Evening had befallen the Tatooine desert by the time all of their guests vanished back to their own homes with leisurely congratulations and cheery goodbyes. Anakin stood outside out of the small clay house of Beru and Owen, his face turned to the setting suns.

The twin orbs set together in unison, gravitationally preordained to accompany one another across the sky and beyond, yet never colliding, always in tune and balance. Anakin inhaled deeply, and almost coughed when sand was suddenly lodged in his throat and lungs.

_Well, I should know better by now,_ he thought as he thumped his chest to dislodge the tiny particles. There was sand everywhere, and despite the fact that sand could be as beautiful as water, still and reflective even of the suns setting above, also adopting the brilliants hues of orange and yellow, blue and purple, it still irritated him.

He hated sand. It was coarse and irritating and it got everywhere. In fact it_ was_ everywhere, and Anakin had to suppress the urge to fidget in uncomfortable aggravation. They had lived here seven years. One would think he would have adapted to his home again.

He had, in a way. Though Tatooine would always seem to have lost its splendor without Shmi. He had showed her grave to the twins, he had visited it once or twice himself, remembering that night, and all that had accompanied it. The Force circled him gently, like leaves in the wind being skittered about his body, attracted by something in a beating heart.

He opened his eyes, pulled from the sleepy beginnings of meditation to smile at Padme as she and the Twins approached. "Beru and Owen say we owe them for leaving the cleaning all up to them, but I believe they'll live," Padme reported when she joined him on his right side, where she always belonged. To his left, Luke and Leia joined him, hands folded behind their backs as somber faces, too wise for their years gazed at the sun.

Anakin patted the small package at his side, where two heavy souvenirs dangled inside of the pouch, hidden from prying eyes and blocked from force sense by his own design.

"Come on," he decided at length, when the considerable chill had begun to settle over the landscape and stars twinkled ripe in the sky, though the suns had yet to truly depart. Tatooine was not ugly by landscape, in fact many had called it's dawns and dusks and nights lovely. It was the people who had turned it ugly. They themselves had defoliated the beautiful tract.

"We're going to the rock dunes," he said over his shoulder, making his way to the speeder. Luke and Leia exchanged one glance, eyebrows cocked. Anakin would never get over how they seemed to share reactions and thoughts. He found it amazing, and intriguing.

He had even begun to think of the twin suns in the sky as Luke and Leia. "The rock dunes? They're infested with Tusken Raiders," Luke pointed out confusedly, well aware if his father's abhorrence to the small creatures. Anakin smiled gently and nodded.

"I guess you'd better extend your senses and keep an eye out then," he called as Padme took a seat next to him. Luke and Leia exchanged an amused, wondering look, young enough still to be curious and nodded before vaulting themselves into the back. Anakin, still watching the suns, led the way towards rocky dunes that jutted into the air raggedly, a place where some said the homeless made their homes as hermits.

Anakin himself had never seen one, but that meant little. Just because one did not know of it did not mean it could not exist. It only meant the knowledge was lost. The knowledge that was not lost, however, was that Tusken Raiders made their homes among the dunes. Yet that also meant that they were fairly secluded. And Anakin needed a private place to settle the prizes he had into more able hands. The time had come.

"We weren't attacked. I'm disappointed," Leia observed eyes flicking warily around the dunes when Anakin finally came to a stop. "Jedi should not look forward to a fight, Leia," Anakin scolded.

Leia, as always, seemed secretly amused at his hypocritical teachings, but merely dipped her head in acknowledgement. "As you say," she replied mildly, good humor shining in dark brown orbs.

Anakin, deciding that he really should not say more on the matter, shook his head with a smile and glance at Padme. "I think a climb is in order, if you're up to it?" He asked. Padme snorted.

"I'll beat you to the top," she challenged. Anakin narrowed his eyes, remembering that he was talking to Padme Skywalker here. "We'll see," he chuckled. "What is this about? Why are we going up to the dunes?" Luke asked as nonetheless they followed their parents up the sloped hills.

"Patience, Luke. You'll see when we get there. For now keep your senses sharp for Raiders while I beat your mother at climbing!" Anakin called. "My money's on mom!" Leia informed him teasingly. "Mine too," Luke agreed, laughing. Anakin couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'll prove you all wrong!" he shouted back down. Just as the words had come from his mouth, a slight body catapulted past him, propelled by the Force. "Hey, Luke! No fair!" Leia yelled after her brother, a half meter behind. "Cheaters! No Force use!" Padme told them both. "I'm getting too old for this!" Anakin agreed, huffing theatrically.

Luke and Leia laughed at the shenanigans of their parents, halting at the entrance of a small cave. "Is this alright, father?" Luke asked, his senses stretching to locate any hostile presences inside of the dark cave. Anakin helped Padme up and peered inside. "Perfect," he snatched something out of the bag and produced a bright lantern. "Let's go in," he said softly.

Obediently, the others followed. Anakin could sense Luke and Leia investigating the cave with the Force, as saturated in its power as one was when deep in the ocean's currents. They had finally learned to control the everlasting strands of strength, now all they had to learn was how to control their _power _of the Force.

It was a daunting task, and bated several years instruction. Yet for now, they were ready for the small tokens he had yet to give them. At last, when they were deep enough into the cave where the sound would not travel outside of the circle, Anakin sat cross-legged, Padme at his side.

The twins, by custom, sat across from them. Anakin had fulfilled a childhood goal and made sure his family was not just as distant and closed as the Jedi were. This family was close, and the future Jedi Order would be just as close, just as attuned.

"This place is strong in the Force," Leia noticed thoughtfully. Anakin snickered, placing the lantern by his side to give them light. He found endless amusement in them. In the warm glow, his children's faces were illuminated. The cheerful sprightly expressions they had had with their friends had fallen away to reveal their true identities.

Solemn, impassive faces looked back at him, belied only by the compassion and curiosity sparkling in still young eyes. Anakin gulped, fighting a lump in his throat, and reached into the bag at his side to pull out two shining hilts. Luke and Leia inhaled sharply, recognition flitting through their eyes. "Soka's sabers," Luke whispered.

Anakin nodded numbly, tenderly holding the saber and shoto in his hands. "She stopped me before we ran out," Padme said softly as he handed her the shoto. Padme handled the weapon with care, a deep sense of affection for a daughter lost. Still, in their hands they held her life.

"'Give it to them when they're ready,' she said," they all lapsed into dark memories of that thoughtless moment, when all they had done was run for their lives…And the future of the galaxy.

Anakin's eyes felt wet, but he blinked the moisture away and took a shuddering breath. "And I believe you're ready," he told them honestly. Luke and Leia, whose eyes had been drawn to the sabers until now, looked up with haunted eyes.

"We…We get her sabers?" Luke faltered, the idea already forming in his mind on his face. "She wanted you to have them, Luke. It was her last gift to you," Anakin assured him kindly. He knew how much this hurt…And how much of an honor it was. "Her life," Leia whispered softly.

Anakin nodded. "Now yours," he drudged up a smile, reflecting that they were by now, past ready. He only wished he were as well. Stilling the tremble he knew was in his hands, he slowly reached out to hand Luke Ahsoka's lightsaber. Luke took it, blinking rapidly to clear the tears. The Force chimed with bittersweet approval.

"Do you remember what the lightsaber represents?" Anakin asked softly, closing the small hilt into Luke's hand. It was not the perfect fit for his small hand, calloused with hours of training with sticks, it had been made by Ahsoka for her own, but it _did_ fit. She had, after all, been their big sister.

Luke looked into his eyes, understanding, remembering, heeding unspoken words. "The Lightsaber is for attack against the wicked, but never the innocent, kept pure at all costs. It is our lives," he said, without so much as a tremble in his voice, chip tipped with pride, even if it did quiver.

Anakin nodded and patted his own saber at his side. "And occasionally for scrapping droids," he quipped. Luke gave him a lopsided smile. Padme held the small but no less deadly weapon out for Leia. "Do you remember what the shoto represents?" She asked.

Leia nodded, taking the weapon with a small smile of sadness…and immense joy. He knew the feeling. "The shoto is for defense of the innocent, baring harm from the wicked. Kept untouched of blood or suffering no matter what. It is what duty commands," she answered in her brother's same calm, steady voice. Anakin's chest swelled, momentarily blocking out the sadness of the moment.

"Ahsoka used these weapons only as a last resort," _sometimes._ "And never to take another life without good reason," _beyond that they were just irritating._ "In defense of democracy, peace, and the honor of the Jedi Order," _not so much the last as the first two, I taught her well._

"These weapons were her life, she lives on in them. Now they are yours to yield with compassion and mercy. Do you understand, my children?" he asked softly. New prizes now in hand, settled in their hands with utmost respect, Luke and Leia bowed at the waist.

"Yes, father," they said in unison. Anakin leaned back and sighed. Padme shook her head. "It just gets harder from here, doesn't it?" She asked softly. Anakin spared her a small grin.

"As usual. Why? Looking forward to it?" He teased. "As long as we don't blow up any more blenders, yes, I am," Luke and Leia laughed, and the crystals inside of the deceased sister's sabers twinkled with their joy.

* * *

First chapter up, and I hope it did justice! I tell ya everyone, this is a _giant_ story, more like a novel really. I think I might surpass a hundred chapters this time around. Get ready for angst, sacrifice, mercy and new characters! It's good to be back...

~QueenYoda


	2. So it has been

~Tarkin's POV~

Courascant was a place of secrets. Underneath every box, home and droid on its surface hid a lie, tucked in every undiscovered corner was some remnants of a hidden secret, and from the underground the tendrils of Dark had risen from dark ashes.

They had hid for hundreds, thousands of years in the crevices, driven to exile by the Jedi. Now though, the Jedi were gone, all but exiled and extinct themselves, and the Sith had been left to run rampart upon the surface of their once home world.

Indeed, standing withered and half demolished, the epithet of haunted mansions, the very definition of abandoned ghost towns the Jedi Temple, now Sith Palace held dark conspiracies in a place once born and bred with the light of truth.

"My liege," Tarkin bowed low before the aged, hunched and utterly empty of anything but malice spirit that others dubbed Darth Sidious, now Emperor of the galaxy. Tarkin glanced around.

This room, he remembered, had once been the room where the Jedi High Council made the decisions for their Order. Now, it had been remade into Sidious' thrown room, a despondent pinnacle for a bloodthirsty tyrant where he could watch the proceedings of his terrified kingdom with joy. This place had once been the place where Jedi lived and flourished, taught and learned, yet it was the home of Sith. The Sith palace.

"Captain Tarkin. I sense trouble afoot," the shadow, back turned to him, moaned. Sidious sounded pitiful, his breathing as raspy and unsure as Vader's, worse even. The lines that bagged all over his face hung down in pale drapes. His eyes were rimmed with reddish yellow, fanatical with primal delight.

It was more than a little nauseating.

"Yes, my Lord. It is the other Sith. They are at it again," he reported dryly. a=Sidious let out a weak growl/ sigh that rattled around the room quite the same as it did in his chest "How many?" he demanded.

"Thirty of them, sir. Down in the cellars. I believe they have started fighting over the pleasure of having one of the slave girls, sir," Tarkin told him, having no clue why any person should want such despicable filth. She was a _slave_. But the callings of lust were not a sensible thing to go by.

"Idiots! There are dozens of slaves here for them to squelch their desires upon! How many dead now?" Sidious rasped. Tarkin shivered with disgust. He sounded like a pile of goo had lodged itself in his throat and stuck there, gurgling wetly. "Three sir. Added to the ones who died in the fight this morning…" Tarkin left the math up to him.

Sidious emitted a growling _howl_ so loud it shook the area around them. Tarkin stayed on one knee, head bowed, hoping that the wet splotches of saliva that came out and landed near him had not touched the unsullied gray drab of his suit.

"That is seven of them dead! They are imbeciles," yes, Tarkin quite agreed, but they were _Sidious's_ imbeciles, so he needed orders on what to do with them, and the dead they had left behind. "What should we do, sir?" he asked. "If they are murdering one another, send Dooku in to tame them. I suppose he isn't involved in this?" Count Dooku? Oh, no, _that_ haughty barve was too contemptuous to join in such rabble, he believed himself above fighting the other Sith.

Besides, if he wanted something, he got it; no one dared fight the aging man.

"No, sir. He seemed to be amused by it," Tarkin admitted, remembering how Dooku had stood over the other Sith, one eyebrow cocked, then walked away with a small chuckle, as if he were enjoying their pain.

There was something odd about Dooku. Lately, after the battle over Ilum years earlier, he had become more distant, more aloof, less inclined to the murderous rage the others demonstrated. Tarkin had seen him, several times, quietly watching the slaves work with almost _regret_ in his eyes.

"Of course he was," Sidious sighed. Then thoughtfully, he stopped. Tarkin waited for the dismissal or next thought to arise. "They need something to occupy themselves on," Sidious decided after a moment. "Several planetary leaders are being….Disobedient. Jabba the Hutt, the most dangerous of them," he considered loud.

"Sir?" Tarkin asked with exasperation. Why did this madman talk to himself? Who could ever digest what he was saying? "Ready the ships, Captain. All of them. I am sending the nitwits on missions, if only to have some _peace_. Have Vader's fighter readied immediately, along with the Stormtroopers. He will handle the situation on Tatooine."

Tarkin nodded and stood, about to bow a last time before he headed out when he was halted by Sidious's croaking rasp. "And Captain, you may send in my newest apprentice," Tarkin, not an emotional or demonstrative man by nature, almost let out a breath of relief anyway at the thought that he could finally get rid of the small nuisance which had not done anything but make his life more complicated since arrival several years earlier.

The fact that Sidious had taken in interest in the child was fine with him. "Yes, master," he vowed without showing any of this. Freedom was at hand, finally! "It will be done."

* * *

~Luke's POV~

_Bodies lying discarded on the floor. Beige and white tunics stained red by the blood spilled. Betrayal screamed in the force, the dark pressed in chanting "death, death, death, death!" Luke remembered gripping his father's tunics in his hands as they ran, seeing the door slowly slide shut, trapping the solemn faces of their family inside with a damning clang. _

_Their faces vanished behind the durasteel, never to be seen again. "No! NO!" his cries faded into recollection of the several he had screamed, reaching, pulling, grasping at the door which had long been out of sight._

_He had no control over direction, no say in how he would die. He felt pain, bonds breaking, could hear his father's heart thumping against his chest, could smell the adrenaline in the air. _

_ "__Run, run, run!" the Light shouted over the chorus of the darkness. Confusion, grief, anger, hope all mingled together around them, blurring his vision, blotting it with hot tears, wondering why the Light would demand such a sacrifice. The escape pods. He remembered being shoved in, saw his father scramble at the controls as if death were knocking at the door their mother secured. _

_Threepio shouting, Leia screaming, Artoo whirring sadly. Then a jerk, and he looked out at space, where small dots of stars spun and weaved a pattern in the blackness of void. _

_Where was Ilum? He didn't see it. He sat in the cold ship, feeling the vibrations of movement, hearing the harsh pants of his parents, mingled with sobs. He had never seen them cry before. _

_Behind them, the ship turned into a mere dot in the incalculable distance, they kept running away, and the Dark whispered it's salutation until they reached Tatooine. "Death, death, death, death!" _

Luke Skywalker was woken by the shrill sound of Artoo Detoo trying to scream out his ear. Groaning, still half hearing the shrieks of the Dark Side, burned into memory, he raised his head from the small and mostly flat pillow to glare at his small droid friend.

_ "__Get up!"_ Artoo told him, with all the sternness of a sentient being. Luke had no clue how a droid could be so intelligent, or so bossy, but he was starting to think that perhaps it was time to shut him down and turn him back on when they had found a way to fix his manners. Luke scowled, realizing that that thought had not been his at all, but Leia's, who did not share his love of Artoo Detoo. For some reason she favored Threepio.

All of a sudden, from across the small dome shaped room, he heard a muffled curse from this sister. "Threepio, dare you touch my blanket…" Leia threatened just as the obedient and annoying gold droid yanked the blanket from off atop her. Luke would have chuckled if he were more aware of his surroundings. It appeared Leia was not so fond of Threepio this morning.

Luke could not help but smile faintly, heart still thumping in his chest and blinked away the bleariness that accompanied sleep. His face felt wet, he touched underneath his cheek, and rapidly swiped a hand across his face to eradicate the last traces of his dream.

"What time is it?" he asked, unmoving. Leia used the force to snatch her blankets back from Threepio violently. "Dawn, time to get up," Aunt Beru informed him as she walked in, cheerful and chipper as ever, even at such an unseemly hour. Still, they were used to waking earlier.

They were Jedi. Their father had woken them up in the dead of night before, and encouraged them to be able to attain full wakefulness without warning, at a second's notice, also prepared to fight to the death at a second's notice as well.

Luke swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled his shirt to him, fighting against the urge to use the force to do it. _Never use it frivolously,_ he said to himself once again.

Anything that he could do without the force, he had to do or else it was a waste of his gift, a superfluous…Force, he should not have stayed up so late studying his saber. Reciting rules and regulations was Leia's job.

Leia, in her sleep dress, sat up and stretched languorously. For a moment their eyes met, and Luke saw the same shadows of sleeplessness in Leia's eyes. _The same?_ He asked through the bond.

Leia gave a somber nod and rueful half smile. _The same,_ she confirmed. "What's the agenda for today, aunt?" She then asked, somehow managing to shake out her large puff of brown fuzz so that it tangled down her back in unruly curls. As if nothing in the galaxy were wrong.

Luke was glad he didn't have long hair. Leia might as well be a gremlin for all she looked in the morning. He didn't understand what his friends saw in her. Then again, he was of his father's opinion that no boy was ever to lay a hand on Leia without facing much of his wrath.

"Well, since both of your parents are busy running an Alliance, Luke you go help you uncle in the fields and Leia we're headed to the market," Luke saw Leia hide a grin. Though he knew she did not enjoy mundane tasks such as carrying around a small basket on her arms, she did enjoy haggling with the vicious sellers in town.

Leia enjoyed anything that had anything to do with debate and reason. She was a trained diplomat, ready and willing always to persuade and negotiate. It was one of the gifts Obi-wan had bestowed upon her, whereas he had showed Luke how to keep a calm head when the victims of persuasion were not persuaded.

He enjoyed farm life as little as he enjoyed haggling. He wanted to do something exciting, like fixing the old speeder they had found in the desert and Luke had vowed to fix.

One day he would skim the dunes on that thing, Not today though. Today he was helping his uncle. Uncomplaining, for a Jedi did not pick favorites, he hopped from bed and hurried to beat Leia into the fresher. Leia, who had a tangled mess of hair to brush out anyway waved him away.

Letting the cold water, vital, rare, and limited flow over his back, tanned from constant sun, he thought about the gift given him the previous day. Ahsoka's lightsaber. He was honored to have gotten the gift; that Ahsoka had even thought them _worthy_ to carry such things…

Yet it brought back memories, and dreams. Memories that despite all Jedi training, would not lay dormant, would not cease in their endless stream of agonizing guilt that instead of fighting, dying beside the others Jedi, they had run and lived.

It had been for the greater good, yes, but if greater cost the good, then how great could it be? He glanced at the saber and shook his head, stepping from the cold rainwater beating on his back.

He would have faith that they had not given their lives in vain. He was Luke Skywalker, Jedi apprentice of a dead order, one of the last Jedi. His very name meant Light, and that was where his family were now. They were in the Light. They were in him, as he was in them.

Their faces dictated everything he did. Everything he meant. He remembered a talk he had had once, seven years ago, with Master Yoda. _"Really? Die, everything and everyone must in time, youngling. Die you will one day. See all we have lost then you will. And no death is there, but the force. Once death has claimed the body, the force takes the soul. They are still with us… In your blood. In the Force that is controlled by you. In here,"_ Luke gently placed a hand over his heart.

"In here," he whispered again, just for good measure, just to reassure himself that not all was lost.

Even if sometimes he felt sorely alone, and sorely unworthy, and sorely unprepared to help save a galaxy one day, Leia and father at his side or not. Yet his destiny was not for him to pick or hate. It had already been preordained by the Force. He was Jedi. He was Light. So it had always been. Shaking his hair, he got dressed and then sauntered off to help his uncle in the fields.


	3. Hagglers and worriers

~Padme's POV~

"How much longer are you willing to wait?" Padme had to bite back her tongue from releasing a torrent of answers that ranged from _forever_ to _until you finally die. _Though she sometimes wished it, being leader did not give one the right to shut others up, however obnoxious and idiotic they may have been. Like Alban.

Alban Emverin, a dedicated and passionate advocate for the Rebel Cause, indeed, one of the many who had lost a relative, his brother, to it's freedom speaking name by way of a failed espionage mission, had Padme's utmost respect.

By the same rule, which applied to most who gained respect from her, he also had a key into the books on how to jangle_every_ nerve in her body and induce headaches that sometimes lasted days at a time. Like he was doing right now. It seemed to be a personal hobby for Alban.

"Only a few years," she replied coolly, silently enduring his fiery gaze and returning a handful of other Huttese phrases back at him internally. The other council members watched her with stern and wearied eyes. This council, composed of ten members, had been assembled by Padme.

From the wild mountain resistance fighters that had sparked the call to action to the small communities of politicians spreading the word of rebellion through small cities and large towns, her new team varied.

She sighed and exchanged a glance with Shantra and Onega. Both Anakin's close friends, he had been the one to suggest they be added to the ten members of the Rebel Alliance leadership council. Padme had come to find they were more help than she had ever imagined.

Though, in this case, Onega did seem a bit more reluctant to agree with her. Probably because his planet, while growing in resistance and defiance, was still under the complete control of the Emperor, and every night she knew he searched the skies for the Death Star.

After hearing the devastation that had once been Ilum, no others dared risk not only themselves but their planet simply for justice. Onega, Padme understood, had a reason to fear for his life, and the lives of his brothers.

Still, could someone shut Alban _up_? They had more pressing worries to debate about, and for the third time in seven years, he brought up the subject of Luke and Leia.

The last hope the galaxy had for freedom. The only Jedi left in known existence. True, force sensitive children were still born all over the galaxy, but by common rumor Padme had learned the Sith stole all children to train in the Dark arts.

They were growing stronger every day. The Jedi younglings that the Order had managed to locate and started to raise after the Last Battles were also slaves to the Sith.

The secret base they had inhabited before Ilum had only been filled with the lifeless bodies of their unarmed teachers, mutilated and desecrated in every known way. She knew. Anakin still had dreams about it; he had been the one who had desperately traveled to the planet to save the already dead Jedi after The Purge.

"In a few years, Sidious will destroy a total of ten planets. We have Intel coming in every day. He threatens all planets that dare rise against him with the Death Star! He_must_ be stopped," Alban continued, his holographic eyes glowing with furious ferocity.

Padme sighed, resisting the urge to rub her forehead tiredly. She knew that. She knew it all too well. After all, it had been_Naboo_ that had been the first planet to be threatened, to pull her out of hiding Anakin had said. And force, it had nearly worked.

For Sidious to threaten Naboo, her beloved home with its beautiful fields and peaceful lake villas…It had shaken her to the core. As ex-queen she loved Naboo with a fierceness that pervaded her very blood, but she was Rebel leader first, Naboo second.

So once more she had been forced to sit back and watch as innocent people were threatened by a petty bully hiding in outlandish robes of glory.

That was all Sidious was. A bully. "For the moment, we have to wait until the time is right, no matter how much it balks at us," she advised, as patiently as she could manage.

She knew that they had a point, by force, she could_see_ their point, but _her_ point was they were asking her to give up something incomparable in her eyes, something the fate and survival of the galaxy could never compare too.

Her children. Her husband.

"I do not make this decision lightly," she affirmed as she gazed at the eight members nestled around her, holograms flickering with disruption. Tatooine was not the best place for signals of any kind to get through. The sand in the air, along with the scorching heat, was too absolute.

"And I have told you all, time and again, when the twins are_older_, when they are finished with their training, they and Anakin will fight Sidious," she gazed at them steadily. "And they _will _win," she promised without the slightest hint of her inner doubt. After all, she was also mother and wife.

That was her _family_, and Padme still had a hard time accepting that the bubbly, giggling babies that had smile up at her every day, that had learned to lift flowers out of the ground with the force to give them to her would have to face the ugly, disfigured bully that had bested the entire Jedi order.

She could hardly believe the feisty, round faces young scamp that had asked her if she were an angel out of the blue one day would have to face off against the man he had befriended and cared for like a father.

Her _babies, _her _Ani, _would have to save the universe. Sometimes the thought made her faint. Sometimes it terrified her so badly she would steal into their rooms at night and just stand in the doorway, gazing down at them, committing their precious faces to memory in case they did not return for she knew that her heart would go with them.

"Why not send them now?" Onega asked, more politely than Alban. "They're _twelve,_ and still as of yet not fully trained. If we send them to help kill Sidious they'll only end up killed themselves and the last of the Jedi will be gone. Would you rather lose the last of the peace keepers because of impatience than wait and gain back a Republic through patience?" She asked.

"I'd rather there not be any more _deaths _because of our patience," Alban said acidly. "The Rebels are strong enough! We have the secret support of almost every planet in the mid and inner rims, along with the endless credits delivered regularly by Tyrion Alwari. We might not have another opportunity like this again, where we are so _prosperous,"_ he leaned forward, his dark eyes pleading her to understand; she did understand, but he was so hard-headed _he_ refused to understand. The Twins weren't _ready_.

"We will wait," she said again, assuring with her tone that there was no argument with her over this. They had more pressing demands waiting on their lists of debates.

"You have said as much for seven years, Padme! I understand they are your children, but are they not also Jedi? The most powerful Jedi there was among them? Besides, Skywalker will be with them! You can't protect them forever," oh, she knew. Padme knew better than anyone that there was no protection, not for the twins.

Not in seven long years. "I'm not protecting them," she coldly informed him, not backing down, trying not to let her anger get the best of her. She inhaled slowly, then exhaled, accepting this truth.

She was their mother and she was not protecting them because she couldn't. It was impossible. It hurt, but the truth often did. All she could do now was love them with every modicum of love in her being, and hope that when the time came, that love would be enough to get them through.

"There is no way to protect Jedi. I am preparing them for a fight none of us can ever imagine," she raised her chin, daring them to contradict this. None of them did. None of them could.

"A fight which must be fought soon if all is to be well," Alban finally found the energy to sigh. Padme opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Onega shook his head and spoke with the authority of being a leader of a massive arm granted him.

"The line between determination and over-confidence is often blurred by our emotions. We overestimate both the children and the resources of this Alliance. We are, still, merely a rebellion, a baby in the makings of learning to walk," Onega suddenly piped in, thoughtfully, his dark blue skin darkened by somberness.

"A strong rebellion, but just that. People have pledged allegiance, but how do we know they will keep it? As we all know, the death Star is a constant threat, a leash that keeps us tied. And I have fought at the side of the Jedi, including the man whose children we wish to send to war," Onega straightened, back erect. "And I have seen that even _Jedi_ can die," yes, they could. As much as the galaxy did not believe it, as deeply unfounded as it were, the Jedi were regular people as well.

Padme glanced at him, glad for the support, remembering that he had also seen depths of a Jedi Master no one, not even Anakin, had ever seen before. "I agree," she said, her serenity intact.

"Our first concern should be how to annihilate the Death Star before we take any rash actions," she glanced at Alban, who had locked his jaw, frustrated, but for the moment abated.

"You are right. At the moment, we are at our strongest. We must use our resources to defeat this threat so that we can save lives and begin a rebellious end to the Emperor's rule," she determined, flashing a quick smile in his direction.

He had loved his brother, very much. Alban nodded, smiling back gently and squared his shoulders. "Now, the only question is," he cocked a brow. "How do we defeat the _Death Star_?"

* * *

~Leia's POV~

"Now, don't you go haggling those farmers down to the last penny, Leia. Remember, they need to eat too," Aunt Beru instructed good-naturedly. Leia shielded her eyes from the blinding light of the twin sun's to the east.

The desert was cooler now, caught between the past times of freezing and sweltering, yet Leia still ducked underneath the small fan she carried whenever they went to the market.

"We need to eat, as well," she pointed out. Leia glanced down at her lightsaber as the small glint from the untarnished metal caught her eye; she hurriedly put her light weight cloak on top of it. Aunt Beru did not know she had it with her, or on even.

There were things even that they hid from Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen. Like the fact that their father was training them in the Jedi arts. They knew that Luke, Leia and Anakin were the last Jedi, but Leia suspected that neither uncle nor aunt knew that they were also the key to freeing the universe from Sidious's wrath.

None of them said anything to dissuade this ignorance, sometimes knowledge hurt. Indeed, Leia had spent a good majority of the previous night studying her new small saber from beneath the covers, guarding the proud weapon with the fierce protectiveness of a dedicated sister.

And even now, after memorizing every groove and pattern, disassembling it with the force and putting it back together again, when she touched it the shiver that accompanied had yet to leave her.

Though she had gotten Ahsoka's shoto, instead of the real lightsaber, the small device fit her smaller hand perfectly. If she felt any resentment that Luke had gotten the actual lightsaber, she showed it not. She was honored at all to have gotten this one. It touched Leia that in her last moments, Ahsoka's thoughts had been of them.

She remembered watching Ahsoka in action with this, even now, after all these years; her force signature still clung jealously and vaguely on the metal, like an aftertaste. Leia inhaled deeply, remembering the wide smile of their Togruta sister.

_I will serve your cause well, Soka,_ she thought, as suddenly her eyes felt wet in the hot heat. She had loved Ahsoka, as she had loved all of them. Even now, she sometimes dreamt that Nava was pushing her hair back from her face, whispering that it would be alright, or Intrepid was reading her a story about ancient times or Lux was showing her how to work a blaster or Ahsoka was playing tag with them or Obi-wan was telling them stories about their father as a teen. She would wake up, every time, to find her cheeks wet but a smile on her face. It just didn't feel as if they were_gone._

They couldn't all be gone. Though Leia knew that there was no plausible way Sidious would keep them alive, and without anyone having told her she knew her family had died a slow and agonizing death.

That knowledge made life harder to bear; increased her determination that though she had been powerless back then, she would _never be powerless_ again. Sidious would pay for what he had done; he would feel twice the pain that he had inflicted upon them by her saber, which burned beneath her hand. Leia sighed and took her touch away, ashamed to have defiled the weapon with angry thoughts.

A Jedi sought not revenge nor power. They sought only peace, and balance. Nothing more or less. Yet Leia could not help but feel that balance could only be achieved with the age-old saying _a life for a life._

And Sidious had taken way too many lives.

The thoughts scared her at times. She knew that she should not think this way, and yet, her father had warned her so many times that anger and revenge was not the way, he would know, he said with a haunted look in his eyes.

Still, the anger inside of her was like a ferocious monster clawing at its chains waiting to gain release from its enslavement. Sometimes Leia was not sure that she could keep it on a leash for too much longer.

Suddenly, the force chimed with a small warning. Leia's gut clenched and she put a hand on her aunt's arm, quelling the rambling stream of cheery conversation. She narrowed her eyes at Mos Eisley, a bumbling town in the distance. The disturbance was coming from there. Leia pulled her hood over her face and nodded to her aunt.

"What is it?" Aunt Beru asked quietly, whipping the reigns. The small wampa's stirred, moseying back into motion. "I sensed a disturbance," she explained quietly, the disturbance growing all the more. There was a certain aura in town, an aura of unease and whisperings of suspicion. She could faintly sense a force signature somewhere in the distance. Something_familiar_…

"Oh dear, not another one of your _senses_," Threepio groaned pathetically at her side, breaking off from his argument with Artoo at her feet. "Hush, Threepio. Artoo, can you pick up anything unusual with your sensors?" She asked quietly, her twisted bun in the back of her head joggling against her damp neck. On Tatooine, clothes were sparse and often not very tight. It was unusual for one to have a cloak or hood, since rain was virtually unheard of, but Leia was rarely without hers.

Artoo whistled anxiously as his antennae perked from the top of his dome. "I doubt it's anything but ordinary market cynicism," Aunt Beru said, her light tone doing nothing to hide her concern. She was concerned but not afraid. Her aunt had never been a fearful person; for all that she was timid.

Leia respected her for it and wished she shared the strength that she so often saw in Aunt Beru. She was afraid whenever she dug too deeply into her thoughts. Action, spontaneous proceedings were easier for her and Luke. They were like their father in that way.

"It might be," Leia accepted. _I don't see anything_, Artoo informed her confidently. Leia shook her head, unsure. She knew she should trust her feelings, but they needed the money from the market.

"Onward, then," she said with a nod. "Well, we were going onward anyway, dear," Aunt Beru teased. Leia nodded, smiling a bit at the teasing, but still, her hand strayed to the saber at her hip, ready to defend innocents at any cost.

After all, she was peace.

* * *

For those of you who loved Tyrion from a few books previous, well...Heeeee'sssss baaaacckkk! New character intro next chapter. I think you guys are gonna love this.

~QueenYoda


	4. Misguided girls

~Unknown POV~

Farther into the rancid bowels of Courascant, a small figure huddled pulling the inadequate cloak around pale shoulders and covering a small petite nose from the smog's poisonous affects.

This place was not habitable for humans, yet the being had no better place to go or be. It was colder this far into Courascant's subterranean cities.

The natural sun's rays did not reach this far down, so the livid and scalding lights above compensated for the heat and daylight, and even then, it was not much. It was moist this far down into Courascant's underground society, dim, muddy as in the air, as if the smog were a permanent. The murkiest scum inhabited the streets at will.

It was abnormal for any person to actually_see_ a Stormtrooper-or human- this far down, and yet the slum houses received an abnormal gift when a squad of Imperial guardsmen, clad in shiny red suits of metal, journeyed from the surface, and gave chase after the diminutive, cloaked figure.

Shrugging, familiarized to every manner of villainy, indeed most of them_were_ villains, they went back to their business, ignoring the cries for help that sounded oddly child-like, letting the memory seep away into the countless store of injustices they had each seen in their lives.

After all, none of them wanted to tussle with Sidious's personal guards. Whoever this person they were chasing was, they must be worse than anything they had ever seen, no doubt.

The cloaked figure ran faster than most would have dreamed, bare and muddy feet stiff from the cold and thus not feeling the shards of glass and metal digging deeper into sensitive pads.

The figure gasped and nearly stumbled as a blaster bolt caught the edges of the ripped and dirty cloak that the individual had nabbed off a sleeping drunk in the streets above, where the sun at least shone on the inhabitants and it did not smell like a hive of mutiny and all manner of grossness.

Yet the person kept going, not daring to stop and look around or above, just running with all the unending desperation of a scared animal from Sidious's guards. Ducking into an alley, crammed on the sides with trash and all other manners of small furry animals that accompanied such trash, the cloaked personage ran…

Right into a dead end.

The small human gasped, small, delicate hands flying to touch at the wall as if they suspected perhaps it was an illusion after all. Sidious's guards halted, warily, electro-staffs and blasters at the ready. They were trained to counter force-users, which this person was, however inexperienced.

"Surrender! We will not harm you," the force echoed dully with the lie. The pang would have been sharper had they been in an environment where lying was not used as a second language. The being whizzed around, pressed flat against the back of the wall compactly, wordlessly giving the answer to the guard's demands.

"Very well," the blasters and electro-staffs were raised…They had been ordered to bring back this force-user alive, not unharmed. If Sidious did not say it, then they did not have to worry about it. "Well, well, I don't see men like you around here very often. You boys lost?" A jeering female voice called out from behind the squad.

The captain turned, annoyed. His eyes widened when he saw the face of the mysterious neophyte. "You…!" the rest of the cry turned into a scream of pain as the assailant flashed through the air, twin sabers screeching out a tone of general hatred for the men she were fighting.

Noiselessly, unmoving, the cloaked being did not move from its spot at the wall, watching the woman fight with amazement.

The human had never seen a Sith so _elegant_, and yet the new heroine did use the Dark Side, or at least its attributes of hatred and malice to fight. Narrowing its eyes, the being touched at the woman in the force, studying the ghostly face, colored a shady grey and the tattoos aligning her scalp. She appeared to be in either her late twenties or early thirties.

Lowering her hood warily, the young human stared with wide eyes, she had a feeling she_knew_ this person, even if such a thing could never have existed. The force tinkled in the back of her head, affirming that this was a kindred spirit, even if an unfamiliar one.

At last, the job was done, and the men laid unconscious around the woman, who turned with fierce pale blue eyes to look the small human up and down. Upon catching sight of the fiery red hair, bright emerald eyes, small petite lips and emaciated body, her brows rose with surprise.

"What?" The child, no more than eleven-years-old demanded; voice hoarse from disuse, putting her hands on her hips, showing none of her inner fear. "You've never seen a kid before?" She asked sarcastically, this being the way she normally expressed gratitude.

The woman scowled, and the child shivered unconsciously. She was quite…Fearsome when she scowled. "What were Sidious's personal guards doing chasing a scrawny thing like you?" The Dark One asked quite rudely. The girl let her own brows raise in indignation.

Not even her _nannies_ had spoken to her in such a tone, nor would this woman not even strong enough to touch real darkness. "What business is it of yours?" She snapped back, letting her anger whiplash in the force.

She felt a prickling of pride when the Dark One stumbled back an inch or so from the flimsy force push. The woman looked up with wide eyes, and suddenly the young girl felt herself lifted into the air by the waist, the force having a breathtaking grip on her body.

She wriggled and squirmed in the grasp as the woman brought her closer, eyes buzzing lightly with fury. "Hey!" She squawked, vaguely afraid now. How could she have been so stupid? What if this was a bounty hunter sent by her father?

The woman was certainly dressed as a bounty hunter, and there were force sensitive murderers that Sidious employed daily to catch those who did not please him. The girl knew this, firsthand.

"Put me down! Let me go!" She yelled desperately, struggling against both the fear in her chest and the force's grip. This woman was strong, and she was not handling her very _gently _either.

Sure that she was going to be punished, she turned her head away as the Sith halted her slow journey a few inches away. "Not so tough now, are you kid? Now, who are you?" The girl gulped and looked up, shivering into the woman's hard eyes. She clenched her teeth tightly, unwilling to answer, infuriated at being so helpless, hating this woman for treating her in such a way, hating herself for not knowing how to react.

With all the rage inside of her, she could only reply in one way. With all the malevolence inside of her, she spat straight into the Sith's face. "Ugh!" the woman shrieked, as she was unceremoniously dropped from the hold and the woman backed away, rubbing at her moist eyes.

The girl chuckled softly, not pleased with herself, but amused by the woman's reaction as she scrambled away. "What sort of bounty hunter are you?" she taunted, throat scratchy. She had not spoken so much in so long that she had forgotten the sound of her own voice. "Why you little…!" came the expected response, followed briefly by an interesting curse in Huttese.

The girl cocked her head_. Never heard that one before,_ she thought, glancing at her skinned knees. Her stomach had ceased growling a long time ago, but she refused to steal. Stealing was what _They_ did, and she refused to do anything at all that had anything to do with them.

Coming to an end with wiping the girl's spit from her face and eyes, the woman glared down at her savagely, her narrow face stony and unfeeling, but instead of punishing the girl, the response she had worked so hard to evoke and not hold back just do it already, turned sharply on her heel and began to walk away.

The eleven year old was flabbergasted. She stared after the retreating back of the stranger, mind reeling from the fact that she was not missing a finger, or not screaming in agony from force lightning.

Who was this person?

Suddenly ashamed by her behavior, though she had no clue why, she had done such things her entire life, terrified in point of fact at the thought of now being alone, the girl scampered to her feet despite the way the world rocked as she did so, and hurried to catch up.

"Wait!" She cried as loudly as one who had not spoken so much in weeks could. "Wait a minute!" She said again.

The woman came to a stop, and the girl saw her fists clench, though she did not turn. She halted, unsure, afraid. "What do you want?" Strangely, the woman's voice was calm.

The girl fiddled with her scrawny fingers, she was unable to get a good feel for this person in the force. It was so disturbing, so muddled down here that all force signatures blended together to just make this wretched pool of darkness.

"I…I…Well, I mean…" She stammered, she had never had to _apologize_ to anyone before, nor had she ever felt guilt for any of her actions. But there was something about this person that made her want to stick close. "I…I'm sorry, okay? I don't know why I did that. I…Thanks. For saving me," she said at last, finding the words did not come easily from her tongue.

The woman seemed unimpressed as she silently turned and eyed the girl with disdain. She gulped and looked down, heart thumping in her chest. She was afraid incessantly, by ritual, but this time it wasn't fear of punishment or pain or rejection but…

Of hurting someone else. She had never been afraid to hurt people before. It scared her. "I...I ran away, from my father. That's why I'm down here," she explained suddenly, feeling the need to defend her actions, to tell someone why her life was the way it was for once, to have someone at least know: _This is who I am, do you see?_ Maybe she would see…

"My name is Mara Jade," she offered quietly. "And…I'm sorry. I thought you were someone my father sent. I…Sorry," she croaked at last, meekly. The look of disdain did not end. Mara sighed.

She had not cried in a very long time. Tears warranted punishment. Her message thus delivered; her identity and pitiful story thus conveyed to someone, even this complete stranger, she turned and began to walk the opposite way.

She did not know where she was going, probably to get kidnapped by one of the men down here and die from smog inhalation.

But she was resigned to such a fate. She had no place better to be, and according to every one of her nannies and her father, she deserved such an existence and such a death.

She bit her bottom lip. She would rather live as a cretin and die here than be a slave to_Sidious_ like her father had wanted. "Kid," the woman suddenly called out from behind her. Mara turned, and noticed that the woman had not moved, merely stood staring her without expression.

"Where're you going?" the woman asked. Mara shrugged and looked down at her bare and bloody feet. "Let me guess, you're Sidious's new pet if he catches you?" Mara looked up, shocked by the blunt display of intuitiveness.

She nodded wordlessly, eyes wide, wondering what this meant that the stranger knew so much about her. She had never even spoken to her father that much in her life.

The woman studied her a minute more, eyes narrowed, before she jerked her head to indicate Mara follow her. "Come on then. It isn't safe here for a little girl," with that she began walking the other way.

Mara wanted to say she wasn't a little girl, but kept her mouth shut, unwilling to upset this novel savior in her life.

She followed after the woman warily, keeping a safe enough distance to run if need be. "Who are you?" she asked after a moment of silence. The woman did not turn or show any sign of noticing her existence. "Asajj," was the cold answer. "Asajj Ventress."


	5. The vision

_**Later:**_

~Anakin's POV~

The dinner table represented sanity. It had always been the table too, even when it had been their little Jedi family it was at dinner, when the sun set and things settled into night, that they could record and process the day's happenings with some semblance of peace.

It was at the dinner table where they could pretend that Anakin was not the Chosen One. It was at the dinner table where they could pretend that Padme was not the Chancellor for the Rebel Alliance.

It was here where they could pretend that Luke and Leia were not the only hope for the future of a dead Order. It was here where they could pretend that they had not left that same Order to die alone in the grasps of Sith, where survivors guilt did not gnaw relentlessly at their hearts and minds. It was at the table where the shadow of dead beings stepped aside and allowed for a moment of goodness.

It was here where Sidious, the Sith, the Stormtroopers, The Death Star and the Empire did not exist and that they were just the Skywalker's sitting down for dinner.

Tonight, though, Leia and Beru broke through the façade half way through desert.

Anakin had sensed apprehension on them since the two had returned from the market without Artoo and Threepio, and he had exchanged a glance with Padme and Shantra. Luke had pretended, in good grace, that he had no idea what it was about though they all knew he did.

Luke and Leia were too closely connected, destinies and decisions so deeply intertwined in the Force that they outstripped what had once been Anakin's bond with Obi-wan, making it seem as if it had been mere child's play.

"Mos Eisley is brimming with Stormtroopers," Beru announced suddenly, dabbing at her mouth with a half cleaned handerkerchief. "What else is new?" Owen snorted, looking up. " There are more than usual. Every square inch of the town is covered by some sentry. The Force is awash with disquiet and dread. Something is about to happen," Leia explained, gravely.

"I sensed it too, a disturbance," Luke agreed nodding. Anakin scowled. He had sensed no such thing, but Luke and Leia were more powerful, if possible, than he was in the Force.

"Did anyone know what was up?" He inquired passively, hiding his disquiet about the palpable power his children held. Beru shook her head. "No, people say the Stormtroopers just started piling in yesterday evening during your party, twins. No one took real note of it until now, when they noticed that the number of troopers had almost doubled," she reported.

"I left Threepio and Artoo with some friends in town, to help out and see what's up," Leia told him. He and Padme exchanged an amused glance, well aware of who these friends were, and why they were so eager to help. He and his wife were not the only ones involved in reportedly illegal actions. Though, they pretended to be unaware.

Unfortunately, Owen did not grant the young Jedi the same courtesy. "Please tell me you haven't been hanging around with the slaves again?" He demanded with a groan. "Enslavement is a point of view," Leia cheerily informed him. Luke ducked to hide his grin. Padme snorted in agreement. Anakin wondered how Obi-wan had put up with him.

"Not when its against the law to interfere with what others think is rightful property," Owen grumbled, as usual the kill-joy in any situation. Padme gracefully exchanged a long-suffering look with Beru, who shook her head. "Those people are no one's _property_," Anakin again intercepted the popular dinner table debate coldly. "They're just victims of inequality. If I weren't in hiding-"

"But you are," Owen argued with exasperation. "So let's not attract attention to yourselves by gallivanting where angels dare not tread," he cautioned as usual. Anakin refrained from rolling his eyes, but he caught the delicate hand that covered Beru's mouth to keep in a snort of dubiousness. "Still, don't your spies know anything about this excess in bad guys?" Owen inquired of Anakin, who gave a nonchalant shrug, though apprehension fluttered in his stomach. He was the one in control of all spies and information brought in by them.

After all, he did not want Padme to have all the fun running a developing government. "I've heard no word, yet I'll call in immediately, and meditate on it," he assured them. "What is the most likely cause?" Luke asked. Anakin sat back, thinking. "There could be any number of reasons," he admitted thoughtfully, hand straying instinctively to his chin.

"The Force will provide an answer," he told them when he saw this did not appease them in the least. "Well, look at you, all Force orientated," Padme teased lightly, standing with her empty dishes. "I remember a time when you hated meditation and now you do it almost every day," she reminded him.

He grinned, privately thinking that some things did change with the tides of time…And loss. "It's only due to your soothing presence, angel," he told her truthfully, then not wanting to leave Luke and Leia out of the picture, added: "and of course the stress of having two kids more intelligent than me and constantly asking me questions fit for a sage! I swear, you guys have taught me more than I teach you," he quipped.

"I don't know father, you were the best teacher I ever had, especially when you taught me how to tune out a lecture," Leia said, with mock contemplativeness. "And hey, no one can teach mechanics like you can…And how to disable all the machinations that go into our plumbing system," Luke added, not one to be out-done.

They all chuckled softly, the mood lighting just a moment, and for that moment; all was well. Then reality came crashing down on them, and the cloud of sadness that seemed to hover over his children and wife floated back into place, unending, dismal and dark.

They had lost so much, and true laughter was a rarity. Anakin would _never_ say he was unhappy, because he had his wife and his children. With them at his side, unhappiness would be the greatest lie he had ever told. And he knew that the others weren't necessarily unhappy with their lives either, it was just…

They had lost so much, and without that extra boost of support, that background of strength and history to fall back on, things seemed a bit duller. Anakin had never realized it, but _may the Force be with you _had never seemed like an altogether hopeless and _dead _saying until now.

It had seemed over-used and ineffective, sure, but never wholly dead, not with how many times it was said. It had been brought to life by those who implemented it generation after generation, and being without anyone else who _understood_…

It didn't matter.

Unable to bear the small, sorrowful smiles his family tossed to reassure those in the room who could never _understand_, he ventured from the underground house and into the dusk. It was sunset again, orange sunlight filtering through the air to rest on anything within range. He stood akimbo, studying the desolate atmosphere around him and sighed, shaking his head. Force, he missed Biyalia.

Yet Biyalia was a thing of the past, just like everything else in his life that seemed to matter anymore. Anakin began walking to the one place he visited every day to meditate or even to talk, no matter the strains on his time or the burdens on his heart.

There was one place of peace on this planet that he knew Padme and the twins visited on a daily basis, but not so much as he did. Passing by his mother's grave with a quiet _"__hey, mom,"_ he traveled farther away, to a small plot of land behind the garage.

To say small would be an understatement, yet to Anakin it was a cherished parcel of land. It was the only place, the _only place_ for miles to have some piece of foliage on it. A gift from Shantra when she had come to visit.

It was a small tree hardly up to his waste, gnarled, hunched as Yoda had been in his time. The quiet tree was devoid of leaves or color, but persistently alive. Where there was life, there was the Force, and where there was the Force, there was hope.

Beneath it were five small stone grave marks, all lined in a straight row. Behind this row was a larger gravestone, where the words of the Jedi Code were carved in small, delicate letters in Anakin's best cursive. This was his shrine, the only memoriam to the Jedi that he had left, crafted by his own hand.

The five smaller gravestones had names on them. Anakin's fingers traced over them as he walked past each reverently, not taking any more time with one than the other. _Ahsoka. Lux. Intrepid. Nava. Obi-wan._

In that order. He patted the tip of the larger gravestone, a monument to the Jedi Order as a whole, from the very beginnings of it's first Force user's to the last brave band of them aboard _The Resolute_ seven years ago.

He had not heard from Qui-gon, nor any of the other deceased Jedi. He figured he did not deserve their company, or they shunned him for his own good. To see a familiar face again and know that he would never again touch or laugh with them as he had in life, well…He did not know if he were strong enough.

Limply, he knelt before the very last gravestone, the one he always went to for guidance or answers. They each had their reasons. He knelt before Ahsoka's grave for strength, before Lux's for inspiration, before Intrepid's for purpose, before Nava's for security, Obi-wan's for guidance and the Order's for everything else. They were still with him, if only in these small stone slabs.

"Hey, master," he said softly to Obi-wan's grave. He sighed and crossed his legs beneath him, picking at the sand shifting beneath his weight. "I miss you," he admitted, as was customary.

"I mean, I miss the others too, but you most of all when stuff like this comes up. I can almost _hear _you sometimes, telling me the answer, even if I have no idea what it is myself. Is that strange?" No reply but the whistle of the chilling wind.

He paid no mind to it. "How's Qui-gon? Tahl? Siri? What about Qyula? I hope you're having fun with them, it's only what you deserve," he glanced up, half hoping that the stone might answer him in Obi-wan's voice, but nothing. He huffed. It had not answered him in the seven years he had come to see it for various reasons.

"Silent treatment again, old man?" he quipped lightly, eyes suddenly wet, yet tears did not come. He had not cried in over five years. "Fine, I can accept that. It won't keep me away though, brothem," he gulped and looked down again. At times like these, he felt very, very young and in need of his master's reassuring presence, despite being almost forty years old.

"Force, I wish you were here sometimes, if only to tease you and get some witty, sarcastic reply back. I hope Qui-gon's making you laugh enough up there, you know how you get if no one makes you laugh every once in awhile. Pure snob, master, it's a wonder I survived you and your moods," he joked, laughing softly at the memory of some of those _moods_.

Anakin glanced up at his masterpiece one more time before shaking his head. "I'm talking too much, aren't I? You'd probably remind me that I came here to meditate, not bother your spirit with futile rambling. Well, I'm going then, master, sheesh," he closed his eyes, straightening his back as he saturated himself in the Force.

"Show me the way…" He mumbled hazily as he slipped beneath its currents. Suddenly, a vision assaulted his mental shields with the speed and power of a lightsaber strike.

_Anakin didn't know where he was, or what was going on, but the Dark Side swirled around him in a mocking dance and tension rose and fell in the air like the swelling tides of a wave. _

Anakin!

_The voice was familiar; and a welcome beacon in the dark abyss that he was in. He looked around, and saw a bright pinpoint of light; the voice was still screaming his name. __Anakin ran into the light and emerged into chaos. He was in front of the Jedi Temple, the place he had once hated as much as he now hated its destruction. It was in flames, dark black smoke billowing from each tower. "No!" Anakin's thoughts came from out of his mouth. Was this the burning of the Temple? Was he bound to see how those poor younglings had died firsthand?_

Anakin!

_The scream was loud and pleading in his head. He heard a baby cry, was that Luke? No, it sounded like the cry Leia had let out as a baby; he knew it as well as his own heartbeat. __He started running, he heard people around him, citizens screaming and running. Tripping and trampling others in their wake to get away from the Temple. But he pushed through the crowd._

Anakin! Anakin, where are you?

_He rammed inside. Sith lead this pandemonium, burning and scorching every beautiful aspect of his home. The flames leaped in front of his eyes. __Younglings screamed and begged as some of the Sith carried them away over their backs. Anakin's heart skipped a beat, and rage swept in to flood his heart._

_"Bring them back!" Anakin ordered lunging for a Sith. But his cry went unheard, and his hand went through the man. He was invisible to the monsters, but a young Twi'lek girl grabbed his gloved hand. _

"_Help them, master!" She pleaded pressing his hand to her cheek. Anakin held on tightly, trying to tug her from the vile creature's death grip, but the Sith wrenched her from his grasp. "Save them, master! Save our home, don't let them take us!" The Twi'lek screamed as she vanished over the steps, to be taken and murdered, surely. Or used for some sadistic Sith pleasure. _

Anakin! Anakin, help them!

_How? He wanted to demand. But he only turned away as Leia's cries grew louder. "Soka! Soka! Get up!" The slightly younger voice pleaded. Anakin gulped and pushed through the crowd, into the columns of smoking Temple. He looked around wildly, his heart thumping. _

Anakin, why didn't you help us? We needed you, Ani!

_There, in a corner. A child knelt next to Ahsoka. Leia was the same age she had been when they had left, when Sidious had killed the Jedi. His Padawan looked older; she was taller. Both of Ahsoka's lightsabers were deactivated in her hands and her body was still. Anakin knew, with another bout of crushing grief, that she was already dead. _

_Fire spread, grabbing and trying to suckle near his daughter. But Leia wouldn't leave Ahsoka. The girl stood over his former apprentice with Ahsoka's bloody lightsaber. _"_No! You've already killed too many good people! You've taken all of my brothers and sisters! My home is destroyed, and if you want her, then you'll have to kill me, too!"_

Anakin, stop this, please!

_Anakin stumbled forward, meaning to grab his daughter before the fire got to her first. Ignoring the flames blistering his skin, he reached in and snatched her from the Dark Side's licking flames. Relief flooded through him when she threw her arms around him. He hugged her to his chest with no intention of ever letting go. He avoided the sight of his dead apprentice. He couldn't lose Leia. Not her too. "Leia, what's happening?" He asked. _

_But Leia pushed him away suddenly, backing up with arms outstretched as if to ward off a blow. "You were the Chosen One!" She screamed with wide eyes. Anakin stared at her, what was she talking about? "Leia…" Before he could continue, Leia leapt into the flames herself. Her little body smoldered in front of him. Anakin screamed and reached for her, but when his hands touched the fire, a new image appeared, and he was in a more horrible place. _

Anakin! What did we do wrong?

_Intrepid and Nava stood next to each other in front of the youngling's wing, their lightsabers buzzed furiously as they deflected shots. Their sabers screeched as two wild birds protecting their nest of chicks. Anakin blinked his streaming eyes. Wait, who was shooting? Clones. It was always those stupid clones. _

Anakin, we trusted you!

"_Luke, did you get it?" Nava called behind her into the room, choking because of the smoke. A five year old with a mop of unruly brown hair poked his head out, followed by several other grim faces, and paled. "Yes, Master. We're all set," he said nervously. _

"_Intrepid, take Luke and get out of here," Nava ordered brusquely. Intrepid stared at her with disbelief. "But what about you, Nava? The Sith will kill you!" She protested loudly. "Come with us!" Luke agreed desperately. _

Oh, Anakin, why did you lie? To **us, **Anakin!

"_Not right now, I have to find Obi-wan, and then I'll go!" She called. Anakin ran over, he would fight beside her. He would protect his family or die trying. He would not stand aside and let them die this time, the universe be damned! He could not __**lose **__them again. _

"_Anakin!" Intrepid gasped upon seeing him. It was at that minute that a beam of fire fell from the ceiling above, hitting Nava just as she took a step towards him. "No! Master!" Intrepid screamed lunging for Nava's immobile form underneath the heavy beam. Anakin knelt beside her, calling to an unresponsive Force, and Luke huddled in the doorway crying, hurrying to usher the other younglings back into the room._

_Intrepid and Anakin struggled to lift the burning beam before the fire caught onto Nava. "No, go! I'll take care of her!" Intrepid cried pushing him away. Anakin gawked at her incredulously. "I won't leave you!" He said fiercely, heart pounding. Intrepid surprised the living Force out of him when she threw her arms around his neck. _

Anakin, we needed you! Why have you done this to us?

"_You were a good friend, Anakin. Now save your son!" Intrepid whispered. And then she shoved him back so hard that he fell on top of Luke, and the two tumbled into the room behind them. He heard lightsabers being ignited in the next room, and Intrepid's dying scream filled his head. "You were the Chosen One!" _

Anakin, please, help them!

_The voice hadn't stopped begging, but Anakin couldn't understand. He looked down at Luke and the other children flocking him as he used the Force to slam the doors shut reluctantly. Smoke gently shifted in the air, blocking full sight from being accomplished. "Come on, father, we have to escape!" Luke coughed grabbing Anakin's hand. _

_Anakin followed him numbly, glancing around to see other smudged faces staring at him from the gloom. "Luke, where's your mother? And where's Obi-wan?" Anakin asked, noticing that Luke was frantically tugging his hand, trying to lead him away. But Anakin wouldn't run, not a second time. He twirled Luke around, and screamed. A lightsaber had just been jammed into his son's head. The red tip stuck out, right between soft blue eyes. "Luke! NO!" Anakin choked, horrified. _

Anakin, what have you done?

_ Why in all the kriffing blazes was the voice blaming this on him? Anakin felt anguish and rage flood through him. He looked up, intending to behead his son's killer as the younglings behind him gasped in horror. And he came face to face with Darth Sidious. Golden eyes tapped into his soul. _

"_Hello Anakin, nice day, isn't it?" The monster asked in a sickly sweet voice. His red eyes caught Anakin's in a trap. And before revenge could be exacted, Anakin was in a new situation. _

Anakin, why did you leave us?

_The burning landing platform had a ship. He could see two men fighting in front of it. Two Jedi were blocking clone bolts from treasonous clones as Commander Cody and Captain Rex dragged an unconscious Padme aboard. _

_One man was himself. An Anakin that was younger and less skilled but it was him all the same. Obi-wan was beside him, fighting with weary limbs. "Anakin, let's go find the others and then we can leave!" Obi-wan called over to his past self. _

_Anakin only watched the two of them, dumbstruck. What was going __**on**__? Was this a vision? A nightmare? A premonition? "Right, you start, I'll cover you! Captain, commander, defend the ship!" His past self commanded sharply. _

_Obi-wan and the clones crept forward while his past self stayed back, saber hanging limply at his side, completely useless as he watched passively. Anakin in present frowned, that wasn't like him. _

_He should have gone first, Obi-wan was obviously exhausted and the clones didn't look like they were doing much good. And why wasn't he doing anything to help? Why was he just __**standing **__there? _

Anakin, do something!

_What was he supposed to do? Join in? Everything went through him! Suddenly, the past Anakin did something that made his stomach lurch. He used the Force to push Captain Rex and Commander Cody into the thicket of the fight. With small shrieks the clones fell down at once dead, murdered by their own brothers, who ceased fire for a moment, stunned by their own deeds. _

_Obi-wan whizzed around, shock plain on his face. But the past Anakin was now standing right in front of him, expression grave. _

Anakin, why?

_That was a good question, Anakin himself was wondering why too. And Obi-wan scowled angrily. "Anakin, why did you…?" He began, but his past self shut him up by pulling him into a hug. "Obi-wan, you'll always be my brother, and I'll always love you," before either present Anakin or Obi-wan could wonder; a sapphire lightsaber burst out of Obi-wan's back. _

_The older man gasped and pushed Anakin away, clutching at the hole in his heart as he collapsed to his knees. "NO!" Anakin screamed, locked in place by shock. This couldn't be happening, what had he just __**done**__? _

_The past Anakin put away his lightsaber and stared down at Obi-wan sadly, watching as his mentor spluttered and choked desperately without emotion. "I'm so sorry, Obi-wan. But this is the way It had to end," he said softly. "You were….. The Chosen One!" Obi-wan rasped and then he was dead. _

Anakin, you promised to protect us!

_The past Anakin turned to him then, with haunted, dead eyes. "Why?" Present Anakin whispered; he felt his knees buckle from underneath him. Grief and sadness threatened to overwhelm him. Force, he knew this was a dream, he knew that they were all dead anyway, but why…? Force, why them? Why the __**Jedi?**_

_The past Anakin shook his head, and a tear ran down his cheek. "They had to die. That's how the story ends for us," he whispered. "What are you talking about? What do you mean?" Anakin shouted; his throat clogged with tears. "Why did you kill them?" He screamed tearfully. _

_The past Anakin sighed and walked towards the ship. He stopped in the doorway as the engines started. _

Anakin, we had faith in you! We trusted you! Come back, Anakin! YOU WERE OUR CHOSEN ONE!

_Without looking back, he said: "I killed them because I am the Chosen One. I killed them because that was the only way to free myself," And then he was gone. Leaving only his present self, the smoldering temple, and lifeless bodies of his family behind. _

"Father?" Anakin gasped as he was suddenly smacked in the face with present reality. Heart thudding in his ears, he scrambled away from Obi-wan's grave stone as the vision separated itself from truth and present self from past self.

Shaking his head, gasping for breath as sweat ran down his face, he looked up to see Luke at his side, one hand on his shoulder as he stared down at him worriedly.

"Luke!" he grabbed his son's arm tightly, the horrible aftereffects of having lost him to Sidious and the Dark Side still present. He did not feel the tears running down his face. "Are you alright?" he asked quickly, eyes searching Luke's face for any signs of the lightsaber that had so vividly pierced his son's head.

"I was going to ask you the same question," Luke quipped with concern as he put a hand on Anakin's to calm him. Anakin, realizing that he wasn't shielding, quickly grappled with his initial panic and terror, stowing it behind tightly controlled mental shields. "I'm fine," he lied. "Did you see something?" Luke asked softly. Anakin blinked and looked down at Obi-wan's gravestone fretfully.

"I don't know, son," he said with a shiver. "I hope not, though. I really do."


	6. The climax

_Before we start this; I just want to say that I think this chapter will answer a lot of questions. _

~QueenYoda

* * *

~Padme's POV~

"You didn't get any sleep last night," she observed shrewdly of her husband. "Sure I did," he lied, not bothering to try and make it sounding convincing. He did not turn around from where he was pouring cup of caf into his daily cup with an almost reverent grace.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but Anakin gave her a firm look as Leia Skywalker walked into the room, still bleary-eyed and stretching languorously. "Have Artoo and Threepio returned yet?" She inquired. Anakin turned, leaning against the counter as he studied her, he could tell his daughter had not slept much either.

Padme stirred her own caf absentmindedly, studying her husband's face. Something was bothering him, but he did not meet her eyes. Padme shook her head and gave Leia a warm look.

She was wise to focus on the details of their own little mission. Padme knew that this bit of excitement, of something to focus on gave them pleasure. Anakin told them that they would not have been taking on missions at their age anyway, but Padme knew her children were above many things _bored_ and lost.

Leia would be a _magnificent_ Jedi; she was sure. The young girl was kindhearted and determined. Anakin though said that they merely had to tangle some issues with anger and control, whereas Luke needed to focus on arrogance and impatience.

_They inherited it from him, didn't they?_ She asked the Force, not missing the irony of it. Thank goodness they had not inherited any of her discrepancies."No, we haven't heard a peep from them," she saw Anakin glance at the doorway, but Beru and Owen had not risen yet.

Padme knew that she should be getting an early start on her work. Goodness knew she had several stacks of it just waiting for her back in her small office, but she refused to leave until Anakin told her what was wrong.

Poor communication had ruined their marriage before, Padme was determined that it should never happen again. "We'll go looking later today," Padme decided, despite her vigorous work schedule. Anakin did not look as if he were sure he could, but she knew he would try to accompany them, if not for protection than anything. "You didn't sleep last night," he suddenly stated, cocking a brow over his caf cup at Leia.

She gave a small half shrug. "Not much. The disturbance, Luke says you felt it last night," _A disturbance_? Padme scowled. She had been around Jedi enough of her life, most of her life really, to know that whenever they felt disturbances, it usually meant that something catastrophic was about to happen, whether it be here or across the galaxy.

Anakin had felt many disturbances just as the Death Star claimed another million victims_. Is that what's bothering you?_ She asked, and knew he heard the thought because he shook his head just the tiniest bit.

"Yes, and something else," he was studying Leia rather keenly, as if trying to determine whether she was lying about something, or leaving a small piece of truth out of her replies as Obi-wan had so helpfully taught her before passing.

"What?" Leia asked curiously, but Anakin waved his hand dismissively. "Nothing. Since you were up, were you at least practicing with your saber?" he asked, since they were alone.

Leia perked up at the change in subject. "Yes, I was," she said with an emphatic nod. Then she sobered, glancing down. A slight flush of red crept up her neck, a sure indication that she was either embarrassed or ashamed by what she would say next.

"I…Well; Luke and I sort of…Rearranged some things in the sabers with the force. They still work correctly," she hurriedly assured Anakin when he opened his mouth. "We just changed the design a bit so that it fit our hands more comfortably. Do…do you think Soka would mind? I mean, is that disrespectful?"

Ah, so that was what was bothering her about it. Padme's heart melted, she sipped her caf, feeling a lump in her throat. _Oh, Ahsoka, if only you were here._ She let Ahsoka's old master answer the question. Anakin's face had softened as well. He stepped forward and put a hand on Leia's shoulder.

She gazed up at him worriedly. "I know for a _fact _she wouldn't mind, Leia. And it isn't disrespectful. You two were a part of her life, you _changed_ her life pretty much, so its only natural that the lightsabers represent that wonderful new circumstance," he gave her a wan smile.

Leia smiled back, comforted. The story of their birth, and the fact that Ahsoka Tano had been one of the people who helped bring them into the universe was an old bedtime story favorite.

"Alright. Thank you," Leia breathed, her shoulders relaxing bit as the burden was lifted. "It was a valid and thoughtful question. Now, is your brother still asleep?" Padme intercepted with the elegance of a mother.

Leia's lips perked. "Not asleep, exactly…Artoo usually wakes him, and without the droid here, he didn't bother to listen to his mental clock. He stayed up later than me practicing with his saber," she explained.

"I see," Padme purred, wondering what was the best strategy for waking a groggy and obstinate Jedi twelve-year-old who had substantial power just to gently lift the offending person into the air and deposit them out of the door without much strain.

"Very well. Go tickle him until he surrenders, Leia. That should do it," Anakin instructed with a wicked smile. Ah, yes. Send in the other twin to torture him until victory was won. Yes, this was a time-honored way of doing anything with Force users.

"It works on your father," she teased him lightly. Anakin chuckled and put on an impressive pout as he looked at her. "You're no fair. You know all my tickle spots," he whined.

"That'd be your whole body, Ani," Padme snorted, returning to her caf, reflecting privately that her ministrations didn't exactly include the same innocent playfulness as Luke and Leia's did. Indeed, her husband had not lost his attractiveness, nor his vigor over the years. And even though he was not as physically challenging as he used to be, he had only gotten better at his bedding skills in her opinion, but Leia did not need to know all that.

In fact, Padme would prefer she have no idea about _any_ of that until she was older. Fifty-four would be adequate age. Leia, to Padme's gratification, either feigned ignorance or truly had no clue what they were talking about.

"Alright then….I'll go wake Luke," with that, she trotted cheerfully into the back rooms to torture her brother with all the sisterly affection at her disposal. Padme assumed there would be bruises to tend when she was done.

The second she was out of earshot, Padme turned to Anakin sternly. "Spill it," she ordered. "And do it fast, Owen and Beru will be awake soon, and then Shantra should be arriving any minute," she said without preamble.

Privacy had been turned into a far away dream for them most days. Anakin spared her a fleeting look of amusement, but he did not bother trying to deny his anxiety.

They were beyond him feeling he needed to act strong and omnipresent in front of her. He knew she would think him strong if he suddenly became a dancer in Jabba's palace to keep food on the table like so many of the women-and some men too- around these parts.

It was a horrible way to live, but the people were not dispirited, in fact they were some of the strongest Padme had ever met. Always smiling, always ready to share whatever it is they had with others, they deserved so much more than what Sidious allowed Jabba to continue.

"No, I didn't get much sleep last night. I was focusing on figuring out a vision I had," Anakin explained. "Sounds relaxing," Padme observed mildly. Anakin nodded and looked away. "It was about the others," Padme perked up, immediately dispensing of all traces of mischievousness. Anakin did not need to specify what others he meant.

"Your vision?" She asked softly, revealing what grief must have been aching at his heart. Anakin did not look at her as he crossed his arms tightly, as if protecting himself from something. "Yes. In it I…I killed them, Padme. I left others to die, the Temple to burn, and murdered the rest. And when I asked myself why, he said it was because I'm the Chosen One. I had to kill them to free myself," Padme was barely following along.

She scowled. "Anakin. You didn't kill them," she pointed out confusedly. "I know. But what if…What if the reason they died was because they had anything to do with me? What if my role as Chosen One brought this along? I've never even read the prophecy, Padme, never seen it. What if to save the galaxy, I have to sacrifice those closest to me? Then you and the twins…" he did not continue, but Padme heard the way his voice cracked.

"Ani," she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his chest. He did not fight her touch; merely put his chin on her forehead, wrapping her tightly into a swaddling embrace. "I can't lose you, Padme. Not you and the Twins, too. It would destroy me," he mumbled into her hair. Padme burrowed into his tunics, inhaling his scent.

"If that's what it takes for the galaxy to have peace, Anakin, then I'll die gladly," she said softly, into his shirt. He stiffened. "I _can't_," he whispered brokenly, clutching her to him as if she would suddenly disintegrate before his very eyes. "You can't do anything about it," she finished, even as she knew it was driving a knife into his heart to hear it, to hear that once more he was _helpless_ to protect the ones he loved.

"And the death of the others is not your fault," she then asserted. "They died because I am the Chosen one," Anakin moaned. "They died because they were in the way of Sidious's Force-forsaken plans. They died for justice and liberty and democracy. They died for what they believed in." She looked into his eyes, fiercely.

Her own heart wrung in her chest, yet she called upon that same strength she had so often seen in Nava's eyes. Nava, who had lost a Padawan to Grievous and master to torture. Nava, who had never asked for anything herself, yet had given so freely. Nava, who had never been without a smile or cheerful retort in the face of _anything._

It hurt without Nava there, Force it hurt so much, every day was another day of hidden agony. She would never cease missing her sister, never cease waking up every day half hoping that Nava was in the kitchen boiling tea, ready to look up and give Padme that lovely smile of hers and declare _"__good morning darling!" _And so for Nava and Bail and Mon and everyone else, she kept on and smiled in the face of it all.

Anything less would be disgracing everything they had lived for.

"You know that, Anakin. You know better than to think that somehow their death was due to your destiny. They _were_ our destinies. And they still are our family, they just can't be here right now. What's really bothering you?" She demanded. She felt him intake a shuddering breath. Whatever he was about to say was hurting him….badly. "You'll think I'm crazy," Anakin told her after a moment of fighting an internal battle.

"Dear, I've thought you were crazy since you asked me if I was an angel. It was the worst pick up line I'd ever heard and to top it you were way out of my league, even as a nine-year-old. So it's a little late to prove me wrong," she told him earnestly.

Anakin's chest vibrated as he chuckled softly. "Well, when you say it like that I feel special," he was special, in so many ways. Padme wished she could get him to understand just how special and how amazing he was in her eyes, but alas, it was impossible. Because no one could ever think he was amazing as much as she did, not even himself.

Sobering, Anakin finally exhaled and then looked down at her with exhausted and torn eyes. "Padme, I…I know that its impossible. I know that there's no way it could be true and I _know_ that it could just be a figment of my imagination, but…" he held her at arm's length, eyes burrowing into her own, hands clenching her arms harsh enough to leave bruises.

"Well, I couldn't sleep after my vision, so I got up to meditate. I went back out to the shrine to work on some forms with my saber," moving meditation. She had seen him do it, when he would basically fight an invisible attacker with his lightsaber, using every flashy move he could think of and experimenting with new ones.

He said that it was in this meditation that he was most in harmony with the Force, most open to everything around him. Something about him being in tune with the Unifying Force only at those times flashed through her mind.

"And while I was moving, Padme, I felt…_Something_. I don't know what to call it, a tug, a tickle, a rush of knowing, of honest awareness, a pure premonition. Whatever. I _connected _with something, or several something's…Something Light, Force users, familiar Force signatures…" she slowly shook her head. He could not mean what she thought…

"They were so far away that if it hadn't been so strong and lasted more than a second, I'd think maybe it was only a wish. But Padme, it was _real._ Force, I know it's stupid, but I also know with every fiber of being within me that it was real, as real as my dreams about my mother all those years ago. I could feel them clearly in my mind as I can feel you standing before me," he leaned in closer so that only she could hear his whisper.

"I felt _Jedi,_ Padme. Not just regular Force-users or Sith, but Jedi. The distinctive sensation and I felt…" his voice cracked. "_Them_, in my mind. The others are alive. I know they are," the next sentence came out practically as a sob in his throat. "And they are _suffering_."

* * *

~Rex's POV~

Captain Rex hated Tatooine. He did not hate many things in his life, beyond himself of course, and Vader, but he hated this place. It was…Irritating. Just in the general sense. He could not have picked a specific thing that irritated him about the planet; it was as if the very air wasn't to his liking.

Vader liked it though, much to the opposite of his clone.

For the past six years, the clones-or, no, it was _Stormtrooper_ now- that used to be the proud and determined 501st had been commissioned underneath the regime of Sidious's right hand man, the one man that had been adversary to their former leader, the very being that in their deepest minds they had all come to detest as much as Anakin once had and also knew in those deepest minds that he _enjoyed _their hatred.

Captain Rex sighed as he looked around the small town of Mos Eisley. As was usual for every where they went, while the boss did what he had to do up at the castle or base or whatever, the troopers would scout the surrounding areas for any Force sensitive children or any signs of the Rebels.

Rex had heard the screams of mothers as their children were dragged away in the night, and he knew what was done to the Rebels in Vader's quarters that made their shrieks ring through the ship.

Quite frankly, he hated his job and what he did, what he was _forced _to do because of his programming, what he had done because of the chip in his mind, he hated his existence in general really, no matter that it was supposedly for the greater cause of the Imperial Empire. _What I used to do, that was for the Grand Republic, _he thought scornfully.

Yet Captain Rex was anything but a quitter. His brothers needed him to maintain their heads level when things got bad, and Cody needed him to be the one with passion when his own reserves of strength ran out. For such causes, he would keep on keeping on.

Just as he had always done.

Sighing, shielding his eyes from the vivid sun above, he glanced around that particular square. Vader was still at Jabba's palace, probably violently making a point that Jabba served _Sidious_, not his own will. Rex hoped for Jabba's sake that he would get the picture rather quickly before Vader lost his temper. He wasn't very fun to be around when he was angry.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, Rex saw a familiar sparkle in the sun's light that he had not seen in seven long years. Swiveling around, he saw nothing but people pushing past each other in the mid-morning rush hour.

_I could have sworn..._ His attention now fully captured, and really it was better that he be the one to see it rather than Vader, he pushed past the swelling crowd to get a better look at the gold shine he had seen just a moment before. Could it have been a figment of his imagination? He had wondered about them so many nights, had wondered where they were and what they were doing, if the kids were safe and healthy…

If they thought about him too.

_It can't be,_ he thought, puzzled as he gazed around at the traffic filing past him. He could have sworn he had seen…Oh well. "I say Artoo, don't you think we ought to head back home now? It is getting rather late in the day," Rex gasped as materializing before his very eyes came the apparition of Artoo Deetoo and C-Threepio.

He would recognize the droids anywhere, and he knew from reports that the two of them had last been seen with the Skywalker…._No_. No, they couldn't be here. Not after all this time and all these years where Sidious had finally relented his search, believing them dead and gone. Rex knew how much he would _love_ to get his hands on them, though. On the Twin's, on Padme, on Anakin…

_Oh, please no,_ he begged the air as his knees wobbled beneath him. Abruptly, he swallowed and moved towards the droids. He had to find a way to warn them _now,_ had to find a way to hide them and then get the location of Anakin and the others from their thick metal heads. He _had_ to warn Anakin. He had too before Vader sensed them. By all the mercies, Rex could not let Vader have them.

His heart pumping with an adrenaline rush he had not felt in seven years, with a single-minded determination to find and save the Skywalker's before it was too late, a fierce protectiveness blooming behind his breastplate again, he took a step forward…

Only to pause in mid-step, a heavy hand suddenly on his shoulder. Rex froze in place when he heard the distinctive sound of air painfully bypassing a metal grill to find passage into the burnt lungs. "And where were you going in such a hurry, Captain?"Darth Vader asked him softly.

Rex closed his eyes, knowing that his intentions had been felt and that Vader, too, saw the droids and knew what it meant that they were here. His shoulders slumped and he bowed his head. He had failed Anakin once again. "Please, sir…Leave them be," he whispered, remembering the plump and adoring faces of two five-year-olds grinning up at him. _"__Hey, Rexster!" _

Vader, whose grip on his shoulder had tightened considerably, snapped Rex out of his memories. Rex gasped and cried out as he felt the shoulder blade beneath Vader's hand being slowly _crushed_ in the Sith's grip. Emitting a strangled, guttural yell, he dropped to his knees, breathless with pain, desperately gripping Vader's fingers, yet he did not try to pry them off. He knew it would only result in more pain.

"Do you require a reminder of who your loyalties belong too, Captain?" Vader asked, murderously calm for all the panic he was causing Rex, for the pure reason that Rex knew he could and probably would take great pleasure in _smashing_ his shoulder.

"No, sir," he gasped through clenched teeth. He hated him, he hated him _so kriffing much. _"Do I have to _voice_ the punishment that will accompany insubordination, Captain?" No one had even stopped to stare, nor help him. They were used to this. Seven years under the reign of the Sith brought about such shows on the streets every day, on every planet.

Rex groaned, seeing dots swim in front of his eyes. "No, sir," he breathed. "Good," Vader released him. Rex fell to his knees, grasping his injured shoulder in one hand while he gasped for air that gave no relief. Vader stepped past him with a sick sort of grace. "Then I want all troops mobilized and the ships prepared, We're leaving today," if Vader could smile at all underneath that black metal helmet of his, Rex imagined he'd be smiling.

"And we're bringing back _guests_ for the Emperor."


	7. First battle

~Padme's POV~

Padme shook her head incredulously at Anakin's announcement, taking a hurried step back as her head began to spin. She felt faint. "Padme?" Anakin asked worriedly, reaching out a hand to steady her. Padme waved the hand away, instead stumbling back to lean against the counter.

She inhaled and then exhaled several times, holding a hand to her head. "Okay," she said at last, softly. "You know what you're saying, don't you?" Had he completely lost his mind or was he…Was he right? Force, how could he be right? They had all believed them dead for _seven years,_ there was no reason Sidious would have for keeping them alive! He_ hated_ them!

Or had he suspected this all along? Why had not he said anything then? And why was he only having all these visions right now? Shaking her head to clear these questions, knowing they were only distraction, she focused on what Anakin was saying. "Yes, Padme. I know. But…But it's the_truth_, I swear it," yes, well truth was a kriffing point of view too.

"Wait a minute, alright? Let's just…Think this through a second. Did you see anything in this vision of yours? Or was it just a feeling?" She asked, straining for calm, for _reason_. Anakin frowned, thinking. "I did see some things," he said at last.

"They flashed by fast, so fast that I didn't get to see a good majority of them. Images, sounds, senses. I remember seeing someone without a face snap a whip," he said thoughtfully. "Well, those could just be memories from when you here as a child, couldn't they?" Padme interrupted, almost frantically. It couldn't be. Not after seven years.

Anakin shook his head. "No. The only whipping Watto took to my back was that of an old leather belt strap," he spat bitterly. "He couldn't afford to buy a real, good whip. The whip I saw in my vision was the long, sharp tipped meant-to-flay-your back-and-electrocute-at-the same-time-whip, Padme. There's a difference, trust me, I've felt both," he told her. Padme's heart was hammering against her ribcage.

What did it all mean? Surely it couldn't mean they weren't dead.

"Very well. What else did you see?" she asked. Anakin pursed his lips. "I heard the sound of a child screaming, and I _felt _blood trickling down my leg," Padme opened her mouth to suggest something. "It surprised me so much I stopped to see if I had nicked myself later, but I hadn't. I would know that feeling well," she closed her mouth glumly, huffing quietly.

"I remember smelling rotting flesh, whether it was sentient or something else I do_not_ want to know. And I tasted dust, not like the sand here, but authentic dust, like the dry sort you find underground in caves. And just a feeling, Padme of….Pure helpless despair. Not defeat, just…despair. I wanted to weep with the force of it," he choked. Padme shook her head slowly, debating this, her mind spinning with the implied message of it when suddenly Owen and Beru walked into the room.

Anakin cast her an austere glance. No one must know of their suspicions. It would only bring the Twin's hopes up. Padme nodded in agreement and buried her dithering emotions deep into the locked safe of several heartaches in her life. "My goodness, you two look like you've seen a ghost! Are you alright?" Beru gasped immediately upon looking at them, insightful as any Jedi when it came to pain which she knew intimately, her eyes clouding over with worry.

Padme gave her a reassuring smile and reached over to squeeze her hand. "Fine, Beru, just worrying about the Death Star," it was not a complete lie. Padme was worried about that too.

"You know what I think? I think you two need a vacation," Owen gave his hearty opinion of matters, as he walked into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of caf. "Why don't you two go into town today with the twins? Nab those droids, and then go off and try some of the local delicacies. The new shipments of everything from other worlds have just come in, so the produce should be _relatively_ fresh," Owen offered kindly.

Padme, who did not know what the word _break_ meant in the traditional sense, paled at the thought of putting off her vigorous piles of toil just to try some of the greasy, unhealthy foods at the marketplace.

_Still,_ she thought. _What if the sudden excess in Stormtroopers has something to do with Anakin's dream?_ The four of them may not have a better chance to be alone and discuss the repercussions of what it all meant again.

Such things had always frightened Beru and Owen, who understood not why they felt such a strong sense to_fight_ the large claws of injustice. To them, life was too precious to waste fighting something that was bigger than them; they lived just to live, not to serve.

"I think that's a great idea," Padme piped in reluctantly just as Anakin opened his mouth to decline. She gave him her own quelling look. "Shantra can get started on contacting spies and rifling through requests for help. We're going out today," she informed him just as the twins walked into the room.

Luke was still panting for breath, grumbling. Leia looked smug. Owen nodded, pleased with himself. "Good then, you all deserve it," he said with finality. "But you have to wait until after breakfast," Beru added with a small laugh as she began preparing said meal.

Little did any of them know that it was already the dawn of conclusion.

**_Later:_**

~Luke's POV~

They left the Lars homestead just before meridian, after Aunt Beru had stuffed them with her typical breakfast of porridge and whatever fruit hadn't expired in the heat, despite having spent the night in the cooler.

Shantra had been more than happy to take on their mothers work when she heard that they were going out for the day, though Luke could sense that there was more to it than a small innocent family vacation.

Both of his parents had been apprehensive the entire morning, despite their evident attempt at hiding it from him and Leia, an endeavor which he could tell wasn't really working out from the conspicuous glances Leia had been throwing his way.

Luke shifted in his seat next to Leia, turning his head away from the sand that whipped through their hair and at their faces, creating tiny scratches in the skin that would irritate him the rest of the day he knew. He wondered if it was just the disturbance they felt, because he could feel it clear as the suns above sweltering them in their seats.

It was a pit at the bottom of his stomach that would clench, a shiver that ran down his spine and sudden popping_awareness_ that something bad was about to happen. He had been having it ever since the Stormtroopers arrived in town. But what was it? The bad feeling increased the farther away from home they got.

_Can you feel it?_ Leia asked through their bond. Luke nodded, glancing at her, at the fire to counterbalance his water. _Yes. It feels familiar. Do you sense…?_

She nodded, interrupting the thought and they returned to staring at the opposite expanses of sand. They could sense Rex, the 501st. The men who had helped teach and raise them with such fatherly gentleness were here, who still had a place in his heart as_brothers_…

And they were the enemy, those same men had murdered Jedi and then abandoned them in the dead of space to be _exterminated_. They had betrayed him and everyone he had loved.

The thought were like daggers in his gut. He wondered if his father felt it, then chuckled softly at the thought that there was anything their father didn't know. He was the Chosen One after all, and subject to intense acuity that was scarily accurate at random times.

He probably felt it stronger than they did. Maybe that was why he was so tense, he had fought beside those men, had lead them and cared for them with the same respect and loyalty as he treated everyone.

If that was what was bugging him, then what was wrong with their mother? She had said it was worries about the Death Star, but he knew she was constantly distressing about the giant ball of murder and evil, so why the sudden extra uneasiness? Something about today wasn't _right._

"Alright, you guys, hoods up, we're in town," Anakin called over his shoulder jokingly as they approached the outside of the town barriers. "So, what shall it be? Should we get a carriage now or later?" He asked, lighthearted as ever even in the face of something that could optionally mean death.

That was why Luke admired his father so much. He didn't worry and fuss over what the future might hold, he didn't ruin the moment with something that might or might not happen. He lived in the here and now, where he belonged. Luke wished he could do the same so easily.

"I say later, after we've found Artoo and Threepio," Luke voted. "Yeah, you know how much Threepio hates walking," Leia laughed, sharing an understanding glance with her mother. "Threepio also hates everything fun. Can we go watch a pod-race?" Luke pointed out, looking up at his father hopefully. Anakin winked at him.

"If we can manage to sneak past the guards. Have you two been practicing your mind tricking abilities?" he asked quietly as they drove towards the Stormtrooper guards sitting at the gates. Luke stiffened in the back, keeping his head down while he counted fifteen stormtroopers at the gates. They really_were_ everywhere. _Told you,_ Leia thought to him.

"Halt! State your business," the trooper said firmly, stepping into their way. His father did not move in any suspicious manner, yet Luke saw his mother's hand creep underneath her robe, and he knew she gripped a blaster.

Luke studied the clone's Force signature as his hand brushed his saber, hidden underneath his own cloak. The trooper did not feel familiar. He was not one of the 501st then, who surely would have recognized them at first sight.

"We're here for the market," Anakin told the trooper placidly. Padme leaned over him to address the trooper sweetly. "Speaking of which, what's with all the extra utility around here anyways? You boys looking for someone?" She asked, perfectly innocent and charming.

Luke blinked, surprised. Did his parents think the troopers were there searching for them? Had Sidious sent out another search party? Luke had believed he would have given up wanting his father or them since he had basically achieved his victory at the death of the Jedi.

_When he murdered my family_. The troopers were polite, if not brusque. "Yes, ma'am. Lord Vader has found two droids belonging to enemies of the Empire, but he's on his way to arrest them as we speak. In the meantime, I'm sorry, but we've been ordered not to let anyone in or out of the city," Luke's heart skipped a beat and he looked at Leia, horrified. He could see the same terror on her own face.

_They had caught Threepio and Artoo_.

_Force, this can't be good._ He gulped, looking to his parents, but Padme had merely shrugged and nodded. "Okay then. We'll just be on our way," she said casually. Luke admired her acting skills. His own heart was hammering in his chest.

The Force rang out with a clarion warning. He noticed the glint of Leia's saber as she slowly moved it in her hand. He called the Force, readying himself.

Something was about to happen. He could _feel_ it. "Actually, ma'am, we've been ordered to detain everyone who tries to get in or out. Not indefinitely," he hastened to assure them.

"Just long enough to take a midi-chlorian count," yep, that sealed it; someone was unquestionably looking for them specifically. There was no other reason for which people would have to have themselves scanned for the power giving blood cells.

Luke's hand was trembling on his saber. He had never actually been in a real fight before. He had felt war and seen the injuries of those who had survived it, but he had never been in battle himself.

He found himself thinking that perhaps he was not ready_. But we have to be,_ Leia assuaged him determinedly, though he saw a bead of sweat run down her forehead. _We are Jedi. _Yes. Jedi.

There is no emotion; there is peace. "I see," said their mother evenly, returning to her seat. Luke wondered why they had not attacked yet. There was no way that they could get a midi-chlorian test without the troopers finding out who they were. Luke did _not _want to think about what would happen to them then if they did find out their true identities.

Their father though, only leaned forward and gave a tiny wave of his hand, dismissively. "That won't be necessary," he said softly. Luke felt the Force poke at the troopers mind. The trooper nodded, slowly. "That won't be necessary," he mumbled compliantly. Luke let out a small breath of relief.

Suddenly, the Force spiked again with danger, making Luke intake a sharp breath in pain as a sharp burst of well-aimed fire shot up his spine. Underneath the clone's helmet Luke could almost see the wolfish grin appear. "I mean, it wouldn't necessary if I hadn't been trained to resist mind tricks, _Skywalker_," the trooper corrected.

He took a step back and waved forward the others. "We found him! Take them down, boys!" he hollered to the fifteen other Stormtroopers. Anakin let out a loud curse as Luke ducked against the blaster bolts that then hit the side of the hover car. He gasped, shielding his eyes from the onslaught. Without thinking, his saber pulsed to life, buzzing angrily as he flipped out of the hover vehicle, Leia half a second behind.

"Twins, no! Get back here!" Padme hollered after them as they charged the troopers, sabers flashing and spitting out defiance, blocking the blaster bolts with ease.

Luke grinned at the startled Stormtroopers. "It's been awhile since you've seen a Jedi at work, hasn't it, traitor?" he boasted as he continued deflecting bolts, creeping closer to his target.

He was rewarded by a blow to the side of his face. Stunned speechless, he could not even find it in himself to gasp as the impact sent him flying backwards. He landed sprawled on his back, saber tumbling from his grip, cloak lying useless beneath him. Leia landed a few feet away a second later, doubled over, gasping as she clutched at her diaphragm.

"Been awhile since you've seen _clones_ at work, huh whelp?" the trooper asked from above him as a heavy boot crashed into his chest, sending Luke's air rushing from him in a painful whoosh.

He gazed up, alarmed, at the barrel of the blaster leveled at his head. He could sense the contempt in the Force. _This might have been a bad idea_, Luke thought, paralyzed by fear.

Suddenly, a blaster bolt caught the self-satisfied Stormtrooper square in the chest. Luke rolled out of the way, using the Force to call back his saber as he scrabbled to his feet. Some hero he was. "Twins, let's go _now_!" Padme barked at them, standing up in her seat as her blaster sent ringing shot after shot at their attackers. Luke wasted no time.

He could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Desperately, he ran back to the hover-vehicle, their father's lightsaber spinning, twirling and blocking the blaster bolts aimed at his retreating back.

Leia catapulted herself into the seat next to him. Luke could not help but cling to her, at once terrified, furious and concerned that she too had been hurt. "Ani, let's go!" Padme shouted as she unceremoniously plopped back down into her seat.

Quickly backing away from the fight, their father hopped into his seat and before Luke could give his failure a second thought they were speeding away from the battle zone and the gates.


	8. Captured

~Leia's POV~

Leia gingerly touched the side of Luke's face, which had begun to swell a deep purplish black color. She cringed, trying to ignore the pain from her own stomach and the tears of shame clogging her throat, which ached from where that stupid Stormtrooper had punched her.

The contact had stunned her more than hurt her, but still, Leia had never been so callously attacked before. Or, she had never been struck at all before, and the clone had spared her no decency just because she was a kid. He had hit her as hard as he would have hit a full-grown man.

Rage grew within her. How dare he strike her? And how could she have been so _stupid_ as to just run towards him? She knew better than that!

But she had been so sure, so confident that he would never dare attempt anything with her saber so close in range to him. What had she been planning to do anyway? Kill him? She shivered at the thought.

She had attacked without strategy, caution or thought. That was not the Jedi Way. She bowed her head, mortified by her idiocy and tears. Her only consolation was that Luke felt the same; she could tell in the way that he had curled on the other side of the seats, knees drawn up to his chest.

"Are you two alright?" Padme asked from the front as they sped away from the town. Leia gulped. "Yes. And…" she exchanged a look with Luke. _Go on. You're the one with all the diplomacy skills,_ his miserable gaze told her.

_Way to lend support, bro,_ she thought acidly. "And we are sorry that we did that just now, it was foolish of us," she said. Force, she hated disappointing her parents. She knew that they believed in her and trusted her good sense; she would have done anything to not have let them down.

Neither of them seemed disappointed though. "Well, you both get your impulsiveness from me, and arrogance isn't all that uncommon for Jedi. You have to make mistakes to learn, twins. You actually did pretty well for your first time in a real combat situation. First time I got into a genuine skirmish I broke my leg, so I've got to give you points for that much," their father called over his shoulder. "All that matters is that you're alright," Padme added kindly.

Leia's shoulders slumped in relief. "Where are we going now?" Luke asked, also seeming relieved. Before either could answer, the Force shook with a spasm of Darkness. Leia gasped as throbbing pain arced behind her skull, blinding her a moment with searing torment.

She heard, distantly, their mother yell something and then they were flying, being upchucked from the belly of some spinning whale. Then she was rolling, the landscape flashing past in blurs of brown and then blue, feeling sand getting into every crevice possible.

Leia looked up dizzily when it came to a halt, mental shields slamming in place to ease the initial onslaught of warning. She blinked a few times to make the world stop spinning and then sat up to see Luke a few feet away, also sitting up as he touched the swelling bruise underneath his eye.

His father was tangled around his mother, the both of them clinging to one another as if letting go meant instant death, and truly, it could. She stared at Luke with horror, scrambling to her feet. "Aunt Beru! Uncle Owen!" She cried, the darkness being very clear in its origin.

Luke also stood, his face grave. Their parents jumped to their feet, more tense than Leia had ever seen them. In unison, the four of them looked into the distance where less than a mile away, smoke rose into the air from the home of two very kind people.

The Force's will was concrete, and all of them heard it in their own way. Leia had no conscious remembrance of running; she did not even feel as if she were doing so.

Her breaths came out measured, her strides longer, the heat of the day and sand in her clothes becoming nothing in the face of danger, of destruction. She ran faster than she ever had, and still managed to absently note that she was far behind her father.

After what could have been a century of thoughtless (for if _any_ of them had even remotely been thinking of anything but getting home, then she was sure that her parents would have forbade her and Luke to come) and ceaseless running that left her not tired in the least, they arrived.

And arrived too late.

Leia halted, hearing her mother's grating cry when into view came two blackened corpses lying together at the door's opening, skin charred into mangled twists, bones visible and the remains of blood coating those bones like ash.

Burned flesh hung in the air like a thick incense, stifled by the heat of the day. Death growled at them in the Force. She choked on the strength of the Dark Side. Leia felt nausea build up, but she swallowed it down. This was no time to puke, as much as she wanted too.

The Skywalker family skidded to a halt; horrified by what had been done to people they had seen that morning, people who had been heinously murdered. Yet had that been the only scene in the clearing then life would have been pretty good to them yet.

Nonetheless, they had never been meant for easy lives. A few feet away from the smoldering house and destroyed corpses stood Darth Vader, and even the sight of him in all his black metal glory would not have been enough to completely _obliterate _their day, but before him, her feet frantically kicking and flailing in the air, hands gripping at the invisible hand strangling her, was Shantra.

Leia did not hear father's saber ignite over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears. She stared at this mirage of pure evil standing not even five feet away and gulped in a suddenly dry throat.

She could not have felt more fear if she tried. She had never seen Darth Vader and now that she did, she found that the sight of him made her knees weak with terror. "Let her_go_, Vader," their father's voice snapped her out of her petrified trance.

Shaking her head, focusing on the fact that Vader held Shantra's life itself in the palm of her hand; she ignited her own lightsaber, nudging Luke through the Force.

He, too, had been scared stiff. Mumbling, he was wise enough to come to his senses and suddenly there were three lightsabers and one blaster pointed at the Sith standing calmly across from them.

"Now, now, let's not be _rash_ about this," Leia shivered at the hollow, deep voice that shortly interrupted the tumultuous breathing. "I agree. Put her down and we'll start where we last left off, hmm? I've been waiting seven years for a rematch," their father called back, calmly, with confidence.

The Force around him was whipping with cold rage and tightly reigned power, so much power that Leia could feel it shiver down her spine in blazing lightning strikes. A wave of wind rose, tousling their hair, extending the silence.

"Brave words for a man outmatched. Troopers," _force blast it._ As if they had been a part of the desert themselves, Leia suddenly found herself and her family surrounded by the clones of the 501st.

Leia's eyes fell on one helmeted clone who had Threepio's shoulder in one hand and stabilized Artoo at his other side with another hand. Her father cast the troopers around them a glance full of loathing. "Hey men, long time no see," he ground out between clenched teeth. None of the troopers moved, though Leia felt a whiplash of regret in the Force.

_You oughta feel bad you kriffing traitors_! She thought lividly, positioning herself closer to her mother to block the blaster shots no doubt about to fly past them. She would not let her family face harm. It was _not _an option. "Oh, master Ani! Forgive us! We never meant for any of this to happen!" Threepio wailed from beneath Rex's grip. Artoo squeaked in agreement.

"It's not your fault guys," their father replied tightly. His eyes flicked to the clone holding their droid friends hostage. "Rex," he greeted coldly. Leia could feel Rex's astounded eyes on her and Luke. "Anakin," Rex said back. "Enough talk!" Vader suddenly snapped, his anger flashing in the Force. Large oval like glasses burrowed into her father's eyes.

"Surrender. You are now my prisoners," did he have to sound so smug about it? Their father tensed further, crouching slightly into defensive position. She and Luke huddled closer to their mother, sabers held in a wide warning arc_. _

_Family picnics, huh?_ Luke asked through the Force though she could see him trembling. _Yeah, you know I'm pretty sure this doesn't happen to any of our friends_, she thought back, using the dark humor as a defense against fear. "We will _not_ be Sidious's _slaves,"_ Padme suddenly called out, frankly. Leia gulped as Vader slowly turned his head to look at her mother.

"Curious. I don't believe you have a choice in the matter. Unless you would like this poor woman to die, of course," Shantra's face, already blue in the first place, darkened still to a light black as his grip tightened.

Leia felt another stab of fear. They had to save her! She looked at her father, who looked disgusted. "Put her down, Vader, this fight is between us. If you want to pick on someone, pick on someone your own size," he growled. "Where's the fun in that?" was the listless response. Leia's temper snapped.

"You're a monster! Put her _DOWN_!" she ordered, and with her command went out a burst of Force energy so strong it slammed into Vader and sent him flying backwards.

Time sped up then, transforming into a blur of clones starting to fire and Padme shoving herself forward to avoid the blows. Leia's saber flashed, deflecting bolts. Their mother crouched as she and Luke took up position above her, protective, not allowing any stray bolts to get past.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Shantra drop to the ground, unconscious. Sand swirled in the air as a red and blue saber collided in a blaze of bright light. "Alright, you guys need to back off!" Luke yelled, irritation lining his voice. Leia felt her breath taken away as he slapped the offending clones away with the Force, turning his hand in a wide semicircle sweep. _Stars above, how much power do we __**have**__? _

_Enough to kill a thousand Vaders. _

"Anakin!" Padme suddenly screamed from somewhere in the chaos. Leia looked up just in time to see Vader aggressively _ram _with their father's saber with his own, sending him flying backwards with the strength of the blow. His lightsaber fell from his limp hand.

"Father!" She cried, moving forward, only to stop in mid-run as the butt of a blaster caught her behind the head. She did not have any time to feel pain before she crashed to the ground and blackness overcame her.


	9. The Fates

~Unknown POV~

The Rebel Alliance was a vast organization, despite the Sith's assumptions that they were mere pests that refused to realize when they had been out skilled. The rebels, since the appearance of the Death Star, did not fight as much as they had before the days of Ilum. There were no troops to lead, no Jedi to lead the troops. The Rebel Alliance; was, in a way, a giant spy network.

Otherwise it could also be called one of the largest charities in the galaxy, giving to those in need, helping those that Sidious scorned, freeing innocent people from political prisons, destroying and robbing the treasuries, and various hangar bays where The Empire kept the most expensive pretties.

As it went, they _were _pests, and they _didn't _know when to give up, that was why they were the Empire's top enemy.

A determined man is a dangerous man. The Flying Rotisserie was one of Courascant's more prestigious eating fineries, and the normal citizens of the Empire, young and old, poor and rich, while secretly rooting for the Alliance in their minds, would never expect that the business they thought so secret would be discussed in the corner of such a popular location.

Yet while Courascant was a place of great evil, the very pinnacle of greed and hatred, among it also sprouted seeds of Light. The influential and wealthy looked up from their highly furnished meals, flabbergasted, when the guards at the door let in a scruffy, obviously poverty-stricken and penniless mean into the establishment.

For a moment, it looked as if some of them might say something to protest being even in the same vicinity of this pheasant until they witnessed the man, standing confident and obviously unimpressed by their status waltz across the room to the back table.

That back table held one of their own, Tyrion Alwari, the richest man on Courascant and perhaps in the entire inner rim. Tyrion, respected, and even admired by most of his friends and enemies alike, was the defuse to the indignant bomb.

The patrons turned back to their meals, well aware that Tyrion was one of those kindhearted types that liked to grant their assistance and money to the needy, even more so since nine years before, when he had befriended Osiris Aethra, who had mysteriously vanished from public notice. He was a soft one, that Tyrion, and it wasn't overly odd to see a poor man at his table.

It was this assumption that prevented anyone from listening to the conversation of two of the Alliance's most esteemed Rebel leaders. Sitting in the booth that, unknown to the two men had been one of the prime breaking points between the marriage of one captured Rebel couple, they dined, speaking mildly, in an obvious attempt at not being quiet.

It wasn't as if anyone cared about what they were saying anyway. Underneath the table, Tyrion's guest slipped him a note made of flimsy, which deft fingers took with grace before pocketing. "We have a problem," the man whispered smoothly to his billionaire compatriot. "As usual, my good man. Big or small?" Tyrion inquired cheerily, yet his dark eyes did not hide their keen attentiveness.

"I've just received news from the Rebel Council. Chancellor Skywalker and her family have been taken prisoner by the Empire," Had anyone been paying attention, they'd have seen the slight jolt Tyrion gave in response along with the strict paling of his skin.

"By the mercies," he mumbled, stricken. "Are you sure this information is correct?" He demanded. His counterpart, a young handsome man with skin the color of dark olives and two white diamond shaped tattoos on either side of his nose. Slick, darkest black hair was tied into a straggly braid behind his head.

He lifted his wine glass and examined it in the light contemplatively, as if seeking any signs of poison. "It comes from one of the council herself. Shantra Pallas. She says Vader captured her and used her life as leverage, when the Skywalkers attempted to fight, they were struck down by Anakin's own former men," Tyrion inhaled sharply, eyes flashing.

"Traitors," he cursed tightly. "They are alive?" he questioned. The man nodded. "So far as we know. I doubt Sidious would have them all killed. He has a certain…_Obsession_ with Skywalker, born of some ancient Jedi prophecy or some such. The council is inconsolable," he reported with no more finesse than if he were recounting a battle that had been waged hundreds of years before.

"What are they going to do?" Tyrion asked, straining a chuckle to make it appear as if he were highly amused by that knowledge when in fact a force user would have noted he was highly agitated.

The other shrugged casually, though his own force signature spiked with outraged concern. The capture of the Rebel chancellor was of the utmost importance right then.

"I'll have my informants inside of the Sith Palace keep an eye out for them. Goodness knows they'll find away to keep the Chancellor safe," he nodded, having the paramount confidence in his spies.

Tyrion exhaled slowly. "I hope so. After seven years I had begun to hope that perhaps they'd manage to stay safe until it was time for those twins to strike down Sidious," he sighed. The other nodded as well, ruefully.

"The Fates are unfair…But not unkind. Everything happens for a reason. This could be used to our advantage," he speculated. "How?" Tyrion snorted, sipping his own champagne. The other glanced around furtively, before nodding to the note in his colleague's hand.

"Read it," he commanded. Tyrion cocked a brow, but obeyed, flicking the note open with an air of exasperation, as if it were the bill being assigned for his meal. When he had finished, the note went tumbling to the ground, where the other grabbed it and stuffed it inside of his pocket quickly, intending to burn it later. Tyrion stared at him, mouth agape, eyes wide with astonishment.

"It's true? Yavin, it's true?" He whispered urgently, the usual composure he carried gone, replaced by trembling. His guest gave a slight smile. Yavin the fourth, one of the top five most wanted criminals in Republic history nodded, and raised his glass in a salute. "Indeed," he promised.

Tyrion turned his head to the window, staring in astonishment, and a great deal more hope than he had felt for seven years out at the sinister Sith Palace standing diminished in the distance. He saw it now in a different light. "May the Fates have mercy on their souls," he cursed hoarsely.

* * *

Happy Independence day! :D And yes, I named a guy Yavin the Fourth. Its fitting for the day, don't you think? Needless to say, he'll become a major character in this story, and influence quite a bit. By the way, anyone else miss Tyrion?

~QueenYoda


	10. Preparing for the end

~Anakin's POV~

Anakin's eyes fluttered slowly open. Groaning from a crick in his neck, he gyrated the sore areas for a minute, eyes adjusting to the bleak dimness of his new predicament. _Another nightmare?_ He wondered drowsily, as things became clearer.

He still had nightmares of war, or his first experiences in real prisons during the Clone Wars. Usually these dreams held no fear in them. Too many people had captured Anakin too many times for him to feel fear now, and besides, he knew he was only dreaming. He blinked rapidly in the dim light, trying to call the Force to end this nighttime masquerade, trying to wake…

He_ was_ awake, and he could not access the Force. Anakin's eyes widened as his memory suddenly snapped back into place with the pain of a rubber band smacking ones fingers. He gasped softly, sitting up from where he had been lying on his side, and looked around at the familiar and dire tableau he had managed to get himself stuck in _this _time.

He was in a small, dank and windowless metal cell. To his right, a ray-shielded doorway kept up an insistent buzz. He shook his head and raised his wrists, which were shackled tightly with Force inhibitor bonds.

The chains were only long enough to allow him to put his hands in his lap. His ankles were also shackled, his saber and cloak gone. His body ached from the fight earlier; it had been seven years since he had fought so vigorously. His body had been unprepared for the physical assault.

Directly, across from him, to his horror, he saw Padme also shackled, lying limply on her side; back turned to him. His heart stopped beating with a painful jab, and he tugged at his chains, desperate to get over to his wife. "Padme?" he whispered. His throat was raw and dry.

"Padme?" he said again, louder when no answer accompanied this. Fear shot through him, sending trembling shivers throughout his body. Was she dead? Had Vader killed her while Anakin was unconscious, and left her t here to torture him with his loss? He would not put it past his malicious clone. Frantically, he made out two other bodies inside of the cell to his left, also manacled hand and foot, also lying on their sides.

He saw Leia's hair had come out of their customary buns. A straggler had fallen across her face, giving the immobile features an angelic look. Luke's bangs had fallen over to obscure most of his own face at the side of his sister.

Grief threatened to swallow Anakin whole. _Not this. Not this. _

"Padme!" he cried again, hearing the hoarseness in his own voice. His desperation seemed to do the trick. With a small noise of inhalation, Padme's back jolted. Anakin's heart slowed its frantic thumping as his wife sat up, and turned to blink at him sleepily.

"Why are you _yelling_?" She demanded blearily, voice tinged with irritation. Anakin was so relieved he could only chuckle softly at the left side of her head, where her hair had been flattened, before turning his attention to the twins, who had also been aroused by the noise.

Muttering grumpily, his family sat up, obviously just as unaware of their surroundings as he had been at first. Complacency had been the undoing of many a man, Anakin remembered.

He watched as they looked around, and gulped when Padme's eyes broadened, sudden comprehension sparking to life in her eyes. Luke and Leia scrambled upright, heads swiveling to take in the situation, hands tugging lightly at their chains.

"Oh, no," she whispered softly. "Where are we?" Luke asked; eyes large as Artoo's dome as he gazed around at the dismal setting. Anakin imagined that they were wishing they had stayed asleep right now, he knew he had the first time he had woken up in this situation. He did not answer Luke, assuming rightly that the answer was fairly obvious.

"Are you all alright?" He asked seriously. The light inside of the cell was dim, not enough so that he could see if any of them were injured in any way or not. "I'm fine. Twins?" Padme sat up, leaning her back against the wall. He saw her let her head fall back tiredly.

"I'm okay, a little sore from the fight, but nothing_ serious_," Luke replied quietly. At length, Leia added. "I'm okay too," allowing Anakin to exhale with relief at last. "Why can't I get to the force? I mean, I can _feel _it there, but whenever I try to touch it, there's a sort of wall between me and…It," Leia asked after a weighty silence.

Anakin was half gladdened by the distraction from their current peril. "The chains binding us are force inhibitors. You'll be able to feel it, but not touch it for awhile," he explained. "Is that why I feel so rotten?" Luke asked, sounding nauseatingly miserable. Anakin nodded. He had long ago gotten used to the effects.

"Probably. You'll feel dizzy and lightheaded for awhile after, too. Just remember your breathing exercises," he counseled. He could feel rather than see Luke nod thoughtfully.

"Ani…Do you know where they're taking us?' Padme asked softly, trying for all the universe he knew to sound indifferent, yet he heard the uncharacteristic fear in her voice.

This wasn't the first time, by any means, that the two of them had been captured by the enemy, but it was the first time with _the twins_. Padme knew how cruel the Sith could be. Torturing his family to get him to Turn was right up Sidious's ally of imagination…

Anakin would not put the idea past the Sith. His jaw clenched at the thought, and he resolved himself to protect them any way he could. He would rather die than let Luke and Leia be subjected to such torment, and Force knew he would never willingly go to the Dark Side.

"To Sidious," even to calm her, he could not lie. They all knew where they would be taken. "On Courascant, more than likely. The Sith Palace," once the Jedi Temple. Anakin thought he saw Luke shudder. He hardly blamed him. The Sith Palace was no doubt going to drip with the stench of the Dark Side.

Endless nights of fear and niggling doubt assaulting shields of light, along with whatever torture Sidious saw amusing to put them through. Not to mention the other Sith… It would be a living hell. And there would be_ no_ escape.

Anakin gulped, staring at his twelve-year-old children, and tears came to his eyes. They did not_ deserve_ this. They had already lived through so much, lost too much already, been robbed of a normal, safer life…

_All because I'm the Chosen One. _

"I'm sorry, all of you," he whispered. "I wish I could spare you this…But I can't," he sighed and leaned his head back against the cold metal. "We're special, Luke, Leia. We're Jedi, and something more. I knew that the night you were born…I only wish you wouldn't have to suffer the consequences of your gift," as he had and always would.

There was a tense silence, Anakin's words sinking in, the future possibilities of what they may encounter once on planet daunting. "We'll face it together, as a family," Padme said softly, her tone was hard, he saw her face harden into determination that was brave…but futile.

They were powerless in this. There was no way out. Anakin shook his head and closed his eyes against the blurring image of the ceiling above. Life seemed more bleak here than ever before. He had not felt such pain since that fateful day over Ilum, now gone, seven years previous.

"I don't know if Sidious will separate us. He might try to turn you two to the Dark Side, isolate you from us, from any Light…You must be prepared for the worst," he told them matter of factly, sounding for all the universe as distant and indifferent as his old teachers.

He did not go on, his throat was too tight for any more words, nevertheless, Anakin knew that tears would absolve them nothing, they would only heighten the twins' fear. An eternity passed, and none of them spoke. There were no words to describe the dangers which Anakin knew his children were to face, increased all the more for them, because they were the Force's own.

Terror sent waves of chills through his stomach, the waves curling eventually into a cold, hard ball in the pit, as if his innards were all twisting together to hide from the future destruction. Dread prickled at his scalp and eventually down his forehead, descended from his dank curls. Anguish racked long, iron claws against his heart and the despair threatened to overcome him.

Though, significant to his name, Luke did not falter in the face of adversity. "What do we need to know?" he inquired, no louder than the whisper of the wind. "About what?" Anakin asked.

"About how to survive," Luke replied. Anakin opened his eyes in surprise and looked up to see both Luke and Leia staring straight at him. even in the dim light he could see their faces etched with purpose and strength. They were not afraid.

"We're Jedi. This is one of the risks we have always had to live with, we know that, father. Ever since Obi died from torture that one time…We've never expected an easy or safe life. We don't want one. We want to be Jedi," Leia explained passionately, upon noticing the awe in his eyes. He looked incredulously to Padme. Who was smiling gently, admiration and immense, compulsive pride glinting in her eyes.

"Well, we are now. This is our big chance, don't you see? Nothing happens without a reason, maybe this is the force's way of telling us that its time to _end _this. The time to take down Sidious and the rest of the Sith is _now_. So, what do we need to know?" Luke repeated, back straight; chin tipped, eyes hard, mouth set into a grim line.

His sister mirrored his posture, and despite the fact that it was Anakin who had been nicknamed the Hero With No Fear for his own shows of valor on the battlefronts, he knew for a fact that his sort of courage could_ never_ compare to the example he was now witnessing of_ true_ bravery from Luke and Leia. Anakin realized that he had never met true Jedi until now.

"The most important lesson, you already know," he replied softly, throat tight with tears, humbled by this show of gallantry, grateful that the force had awarded him with such priceless gifts, had deemed him_ worthy_ to be their teacher when he himself was inferior compared to the supernova's of bright possibility sitting chained before him.

"You know who you are, and what that means. You are Jedi. That knowledge alone will get you through any circumstance Sidious will throw at you. It'll get you through the rest of your lives. The second thing you should never forget is that you are _Skywalkers_," he drew himself up, banishing fear, releasing dread and despair into a Force he was not supposed to be able to touch.

"And that doesn't just include your mother, I and your grandmother, but the others, too," he saw them all straighten a bit more out of respect. "You remember what they stood for, and that they loved you, how proud of you they were. Remember your love for them. Sidious is a powerful Sith, and he can lie, manipulate and wreck like no one else, " Anakin's mouth twisted bitterly. He would know.

"But he can't touch you if you don't let him, if you don't listen then all his pretty words and his sweet promises are for nothing. Love is what enables you to do that, it gives you a reason to hold on. So just…Hold on to that love, okay? Remember how much you love the people around you, how much you in turn are loved," he saw them listening intently to his every word, nodding, eyes serious and ready in the light.

He cleared his throat, eyes wet.

"You two…I'm so _proud_ of you," his voice cracked. "You don't know how proud of you I am, how honored and grateful I am to be your father. You're more prepared for this than I was, already you're a better Jedi than I could ever hope to be. You bring honor to the other Jedi and their memory. They'd all be so proud of you," he looked across at Padme, who nodded and crossed her legs beneath her.

Her eyes twinkled as she gave the twins a lopsided grin. "I love you," three simple words that meant the universe to them all. "I love you too," as one, as always, the twins spoke together. Anakin crossed his legs beneath him, feeling a sudden spurt of exhilaration rush through him, slipping a cloak of boundless strength and inspiration around his shoulders.

He could _do_ this. He could do anything, because he was Jedi. The Twins had inspired him with their own example. They did not have to train to become something they already were, something they were so deeply entrenched into that there was no return.

How was it they taught him more than he taught them?

Sitting with his back straight, cocky grin playing on his mouth, he motioned for Luke and Leia to do the same, then inhaled deeply. He could still feel the force, pulsing and throbbing against him like the stirring tides of the sea, swirling into a vortex of unsullied and undaunted _Light _that refused to snuffed into extinction, passion and chaos at a harmonized balance, vicious outrage transforming instead from the cold lump of fake coal into a roaring inferno of fire. The furnace of the four souls in the room warmed the air with combined tenacity and mutual love. There would always be peace in the end.

And as long as there were those who stood for the _right_, then the right would live on, and it could never be destroyed because it was within them. Hate, jealousy, malice were external emotions, thrown upon people without intention but by circumstance and by life who discriminated none.

Calmness, compassion, ration, unity were things that were naturally already in the hearts of every being, and Anakin called upon the power of those passions now. From that wellspring of Light came a simple rulebook that Anakin had once thought emotionless, but now rung with the truth that hundreds of generations of Jedi had fought and died for.

"There is no emotion, there is peace," he said. Padme repeated the sentiment, softly, eyes also closed, partaking in the meditation though she could not feel the force which swirled around her, tossing and turning at her sides battering against her inner doors.

She remained resolute in the face of danger, as she always had. Anakin was then humbled, too, by his wife. Luke echoed, then Leia.

"There is no ignorance, there is knowledge," Anakin's tense muscles slackened to the rhythm of their endless chant, from one generation to the next to the next, repeating the cycle with growing strength, so that it did not die but kindled on longer, like fire continuously being stroked.

"There is no chaos, there is harmony," even in the dim light, in the awful circumstances, in face of the devastation, death and injustice they had faced that day, and for the past seven years in truth, the Skywalker's stood resolute against the odds. Perhaps that was their overall, ongoing legacy: perseverance.

"There is no passion, there is serenity," passion grew and grew until finally it blazed bright within them, settling from the painful blaze of raw power into meek acceptance of such rare command, into bone deep serenity that neither torture, torment, hatred, despair or _fear _could disrupt.

"There is no death, there is the Force," whatever else happened, Anakin knew one thing: he was Jedi, now and forever.

* * *

I feel like I should warn all my readers now since I just re-read over this monster of a story and realized that it might be just a bit dark. This one will be full of angst, my friends. Its high up on the sob-inducer meter, even compared to my other ones. Also on the comedic/family moments that I love to write, but...Just expect it to get rough from here.

~QueenYoda


	11. The Sith Palace

**_Two days later:_**

~Leia's POV~

They landed on Courascant two days after capture. Leia inhaled deeply, extinguishing the quick flare of fear that rippled through her like a chain effect. _I am Jedi. I can do this,_ she steeled into herself.

This had been the personal motto that she had been saying the past two days they had been inside of the cell, fed only stiff and stale protein bars and allowed out for bathroom breaks occasionally.

She had no idea what it was that she would do, or could do, but she knew that the force was stirring them for something, along fight more than likely. She looked forward to it.

For seven years…And virtually since her birth Leia knew they had hidden and run from Sidious, but now they were going to him, and the time for running was over.

_This is the beginning of the end_, she decided as two clones approached their ray shielded door. They had felt the jostling of the ship, knew what it meant. She looked at Luke, his features hidden in the dark, and gave single nod_. May the force be with you,_ she thought, with a caress against their bond, which would always be there. She hoped so anyway, she derived too much comfort from her twin to have it destroyed because of some Sith.

_You too,_ Luke replied, eyes forward, back straight as the clones lowered the shield. "Come on, all of you. We're here," the solemn voice was none other than that of Captain Rex.

At least the traitor had come in person to look into their eyes and take them to Sidious. Two others came in and snipped the chains shackling them to the walls, along with t eh force inhibitors.

Leia saw her father glance at them, his expression was emotionless, yet she could see the love shining in his eyes. Her heart swelled as her father was led away first, his hands still cuffed before him. They were escorted after him, their mother the last of the procession. Leia winked at her before they stood, having discreetly heard the thoughts of what her mother would have liked to do with Rex's blaster and who she would have shot first should she have been free handed to do so.

Leia blinked wearily at the light above, blinding after two days inside of a dim enclosure. She blinked away the tears of sizzling pain in the pupils. She would not start crying, whether out of fear or otherwise. She was better than that. She was Jedi. Her muscles, which had been stinging relentlessly since the unaccustomed rigidity of her attack on the clones, protested with pangs of soreness at each move.

She gritted her teeth and ignored the pain, glancing at Rex's belt, where her lightsabers, originally Ahsoka's were strapped. At last, they came to the cargo bay; the ramp was slowly being lowered from the ship. She saw the shine of hard sunlight on the metal outside, glinting.

The force churned with Darkness, slithering around her like oil, clotting her awareness of other things. _The shroud of the Dark side,_ she realized; eyes still on the sabers that hung on Rex's hip. He stood beside her, not touching or looking at any of them, silently, hands folded behind his back reasonably.

"Where're Artoo and Threepio?" Her father suddenly broke the ice by asking. Rex did not acknowledge the question, nor the speaker. "They've been sent to the droid disassembling units below, sir," he answered mildly. Leia's heart skipped a beat and she exchanged a saddened look with Luke. Those were their droids; they were being destroyed!

_Sorry, Threepio_, she thought, realizing that there was no way to go save them, as much as she wanted too. Threepio had been her devoted…Not exactly friend, but neither servant for many years. _That's just another person-droid-that you've taken away from me, Sidious. Another life_ she thought bitterly.

Then, underneath his helmet, she sensed him glance at her and Luke again. "You two have grown," he said quietly. Leia snorted in contempt at the softness in his voice. "Nice of you to notice. Keep those sabers nice and shiny won't you captain? We'll be using them shortly," she replied calmly.

She heard Luke sigh in front of her, her father snort and her mother snicker. To her surprise, Rex chuckled softly. "Good to see you still have your fire, kid. Don't worry, I'll take care of them. I'd recognize Ahsoka's lightsabers anywhere," he promised, with some amount of kindness.

Leia refused to look at him and refused to acknowledge the sincerity ringing in the force though their father appeared thoughtful. Rex was the enemy now. No matter how much she had loved him in the past, the past was over and done. She had a new place in the universe and he was no longer part of it.

She inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Finally, the ramp lowered all the way. Leia shivered when she saw a hunched, hooded figure standing there next to Vader. She knew without asking that this man was Darth Sidious. Her knees trembled, but she only inhaled and lifted her chin as wordlessly the family filed out of the ship, shepherded by a squad of former friends.

How times had changed.

Leia blinked against the vivid light now filling her vision, before staring out at Courascant, a place she had seen in almost ten years. It ranked of treachery, suffering, terror and malice in the force. She strengthened her shields against the invading Dark. She had been here before, but not this close to the Sith Palace. She stood, hands clasped in front of her next to Luke.

The hunched figure lowered his hood and Leia inhaled sharply, quickly looking away in revulsion. "Welcome back," Darth Sidious rasped ironically, with a malicious smile.

Her father did not seem so alarmed, giving Leia the impression that Sidious had always been this way. His face was lined with wrinkles that began under his eyes and ended below his chin.

The skin itself was a ghostly grayish white. Leia stared at the premonition of rotting flesh before her and shivered. She heard Luke gulp next to her, swallowing bile she knew. "Sidious," their father greeted coldly, looking down at the man with calm fury.

"It's not been long enough," their mother added in a croon. Sidious gave them a gaping grin. "Seven years has merely given you a chance to exercise your wit, I see," he replied with a choking chuckle. "Tatooine?" he turned to their father, who stood straight, calmly amongst the Darkness batted at him. Leia admired his restraint. There was no emotion on his face.

"I never expected to find you back upon that dust ball," he observed. "Yeah, well," their father shrugged. "You always did assume too much about me. It's probably the reason why I'm standing here before you in the Light, instead of next to you and the breathing machine over there," he jerked his head to Vader, who let out a low growling noise.

Sidious, though, only cackled madly before turning his bright, fanatical orange eyes to the twins. "Luke and Leia Skywalker," he said softly. "I don't believe we've had a chance yet to meet. It is a privilege to finally make your acquaintance," he purred, coming to stand before them. Leia wrinkled her nose at the rancid smell of his breath.

"Darth Sidious," Luke countered coldly. "I expected someone with your reputation to be a bit…" he cocked his head thoughtfully, searching for the word. "Less repulsive, pathetic and ugly in general?" Leia suggested slyly. Luke cast her an impish look. "Yep, that about covers what I was thinking," he agreed. Their father scoffed with unhidden laughter.

Vader's red saber sprung to life, his rage flashing a definite threat in the force. Leia stiffened, but Sidious waved his guard dog away. "You are your parent's children," was the wry response.

Leia, emboldened by their minor victory, raised her chin. "We are Jedi," she corrected firmly. Sidious gave her a calculating glance. "Do not be so sure youngling. The game has yet to begin," he turned to the clones standing there.

"Take them away," he ordered. The Sith turned back to their father with contempt, and placed an almost fatherly hand on his shoulder. "It is good to see you again, my boy. We have _much_ catching up to do," he cackled.

She saw her father tense, his jaw clenched but he said nothing, eyes blazing. "Come on," Rex mumbled, sounding appropriately contrite as he gently took her elbow in his hand to guide her towards the waiting skiff. The other Stormtroopers, radiating pure shame in the force that she refused to acknowledge, led the others the same way before halting at the edge.

She felt Vader enter the small vehicle directly behind her, so close she could almost hear his lungs gurgling as he breathed. Her breath hitched, but her mother squeezed her hand surreptitiously.

Before he, too, entered the skiff their father halted and said softly over his shoulder: "Take care of yourself, Rex," to his former captain and brother in arms before he allowed Sidious to carry them away.

_**Later:**_

The ride went in silence except for Vader's slow intake of breath. As they neared the Sith palace, the Dark Side grew until it surrounded Leia on all sides, voices and emotions flitting to barrage against her mental shields.

This resulted in a migraine so painful Leia felt tears come to her eyes. How could anyone live in a place like this? Where the Force was harshly overpowering instead of gently filling?

Leia had never seen the inside of the Jedi Temple before, it having been taken over and conquered a few weeks after her birth, however as Sidious gave them over to the care of more Stormtroopers, surprising them all by silently taking his leave, Vader trailing like an obedient puppy, she reflected that she was relatively sure it had not looked like it did during the time of the Jedi.

"What have they _done_?" Her father whispered, staring around as they were taken deeper into the once temple. The walls, towering high above them, might have been white once.

Now the walls were smeared with blood or other…Things that Leia did not want to think of. The force was awash with suffering, with a slow fall into madness, still echoed with the screams of the children slaughtered here… They passed by destroyed and utterly dead-looking rooms which their father softly identified, with some amount of repulsion.

"The room of a thousand fountains, the gardens, the mirror room, the graveyard, the rainforest room, the Archives, the Council Chambers, Force, it all used to be so _beautiful_," he said with soft disgust and lament. Leia nodded, wondering how anyone could call this place a palace when it was more related to a dump.

All the beauty had been sucked out of it, all the decency destroyed. Leia glanced down at the marble floor beneath her, where underneath the smatterings of whatever secretion made it smell like this, she could see the Jedi emblem still etched into the floor, grayed and worn by time.

A symbol of peace.

She sighed, wondering where they were being taken_. Is this the way to the prison cells?_ She wondered, taking in the broken windows that looked down into a courtyard that she knew, probably had been the home to lovely foliage and contemplation in the past.

Now all the plants that had been there were browned with death, the trees hunched over in defeat, the small fountains dry of any water, the entire courtyard itself devoid of life.

_This is what beauty really is, this is what peace means, _the Dark whispered in her ear, she shivered. What would happen when they did get to the prison cells? What would be done to them then?

_Do you suppose you're strong enough to handle torture, young Skywalker? Do you think you can handle watching them hurt your brother? _The voice was so tangible it could have been a real person whispering in her ear. Leia shook her head urgently, glancing at Luke to make sure he was still there. Indeed, he was. There and alive. She would keep that in mind

_I am Jedi._ She thought again to the Dark Side, unaware that by answering it, she was allowing it in. _A Jedi cannot protect them, young Skywalker. A Jedi cannot save what little family you have left,_ was the cackling response in Sidious's voice. Leia, realizing that she was listening to the lies of the dark, quickly shook her head to clear it.

"Do you sense that?" Luke suddenly piped in softly, since the clones escorting them did not seem to care much about anything but doing that one duty and then retreating back into wherever it is they went afterwards. "Yes," Anakin muttered back. "What?" Leia asked. Luke glanced back at her, and there was a glimmer of hope-or shock?-in his eyes.

"_Light_, Leia. Don't you feel it? Dig deeper," he whispered. Leia gave him an odd look but did as he said. Ignoring the voices taunting her, pushing aside the screams and malice the Dark offered, she sought deeper into the force's currents and gasped aloud.

_Light. But how? In a place like this, how could there ever be Light? _She wondered, astounded, clinging desperately to the flicker of life as a sailor hugs the mast of a sinking ship.

"Wherever there is life, there is hope," Anakin reported softly. Leia exhaled, feeling a sense of relief that she could at least hold on to that small consolation, that there was a light somewhere in here, behind the darkness. It was muffled, like a light bulb shining beneath a heavy black blanket. It was still there, though, a small offering of optimism for her among this darkest of places.

"Not even the Sith would have been able to completely get rid of the Light that was once here," their mother guessed. Leia glanced at her father. He seemed…Disturbed, but he did not say why as they approached a door that had dust and corrosion on it, creating grayish contrast to the white beneath. The door had not been opened in a _very_ long time, obviously. Was it a torture chamber?

"Here. The Emperor ordered you be put here," the Stormtrooper said as he unclasped the chains around their wrists. Leia rubbed her chafed bones before she was harshly shoved inside of the room.

Luke bumped into her from behind. The room was pitch dark, Leia stared into the darkness, making out the shape of a few things. _Why would he let us have the force? And where are we?_ Leia wondered.

"Where are we?" Luke echoed her thoughts as the door shut; leaving them huddled in an uncertain, unseeing circle. "I'm not sure…Ani?" Their mother responded. Leia felt her shoulder squeezed tight. A slight shuffling sound, and then suddenly the room was bathed in a dim glow.

Leia shook her head, migraine increasing by volumes as she examined the new room. It was certainly…_Modest._ To their right was a small kitchen and bar. Further than that another door to another room, she was sure. To their left another door. In the living area there was a small couch that could lean back to become a bed, plush and also dusty with disuse.

Her father's gasp drew them to look back, where his hand was still hovering over the light switch. His eyes were wide as he gazed around, leaning partially against the closed and ray-shielded door as if his legs were not supporting him all of a sudden. "Ani? Are you alright?" Their mother cried, forehead creasing with concern.

Their father dragged his eyes over to them. Leia saw him swallow. Sudden fear shot through her at the trembling way he regained his initial balance, still staring wonderingly around. "This…" he swallowed once. "This…This is Obi-wan's old quarters. He raised me here," he whispered in explanation.

Leia looked around, flabbergasted. "Really?" Luke twisted around curiously. "But it's so small!" he cried, shocked. Leia, too, had been expecting the rooms of heroes to be more…Grand. Anakin let out a breath of a laugh.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is. But for the first ten years before I met your mother…This was _home_. I still came here, me and Soka, during the Clone Wars. We camped out here whenever Obi-wan was present to make us food," he chuckled softly. Leia saw his eyes were wet as he walked over to the counter and gently traced a finger through the heavy coat of dust settled on the bar.

"I sat _right here_," he took a seat at the bar, waving them over. Leia ran up and stood by him excitedly, almost able to pretend that this was just another story night, at home.

Wherever home was, there had never really been a set definition for them, they moved so frequently. Once it had been Biyalia, then Courascant, then the space tower, then Tatooine…

"The day I was Knighted, and watched Obi-wan make me breakfast," he chuckled softly and pointed to the plush couch. "Ahsoka and I…We'd sometimes pull my bed and Obi-wan's from their rooms and stake a camp out here with the old barve, going over battlefield strategies and comparing notes until one of us or all of us fell asleep," he chuckled brokenly.

Turning, almost frantic, he pushed himself out of his seat and raced to the room on the right. They all followed him energetically, just in time to see him throw himself into the large bed in the middle of the room.

The rest of the room was basically bare. "This was Obi-wan's room!" he explained, through a mouthful of blanket, which he then handed to Luke. Her brother buried his nose in the fabric and inhaled sharply. "It smells just like him," he breathed, handing the blanket to her. Leia took it eagerly and wafted the smell of tea and vanilla, sudden tears in her eyes.

"Where's your room?" their mother wondered curiously, pulling the coverlet close to her chest as if it were a chest full of riches. "Ahsoka/my room. We were never at our own quarters. All of our stuff was here because we never went anywhere else. It's probably still filled with droid parts and pieces of candy," Anakin chuckled, standing to run across the room.

Indeed, on the small tables, there were wrappers of candy, now stale and melted, along with various mechanical parts thrown willy-nilly across the room. "I feel like I'm seeing a piece of history," Leia admitted as their mother laughingly watched Luke fiddle with the small droid parts and their father jump into the bed that was much too small for him.

"You are," her father snorted, sitting up, grinning. "This is where Obi-wan, me and Soka spent most of our apprenticeship. That room used to be Qui-gon's. Then it was Obi-wan's, and I never had the heart to take it from him. Three generations of Jedi grew up here, Leia. This could be an exhibit in a museum for all the history that happened here," he told her.

"I've always wondered what it would look like," their mother admitted, gently swiping stray hair from Leia's face. "I didn't think it'd be so…Modest, but I did know it was homely, and full," suddenly, she frowned and looked up, eyes darkening. "Why did Sidious save it?" She asked softly.

At the memory of where they were, the Dark rushed in to gloat in their ears, the dimness of their situation now taking place as a burden upon their shoulders. As if he had heard his name summoned, Leia sensed the familiar force signature of _oil_ sliding across her senses appear. She shivered.

"Speak of the devil," Luke mumbled as their father pushed past them back into the main living area. A second later, Sidious and Vader appeared in the doorway, two Stormtroopers behind them. _Cody and Fives._

"Do you like it?" Darth Sidious inquired, a slow grin transforming his face into the devilish ghoul Leia knew was underneath the seemingly gnarled body. "I ordered that the room be spared when we seized the Temple. No one has been inside it for many, _many _years," the Sith smirked. "I saved it for you," he explained.

A shiver ran down Leia's spine. She looked at Luke, whose eyes were wide with surprise and uncertainty. Sidious had known this was going to happen someday? "What do you want, Sidious?" Their mother growled, she glared at the reason why this room did not hold Obi-wan and Ahsoka any longer.

"For the moment? I'd like only to borrow Anakin, my dear senator. I'll return him in one piece, you have my word," he assured her smugly when he saw her face quickly bleach itself pale.

Anakin snorted. "Your word is worth as little your appeal," he replied, starting forward. Leia paled, would they ever see their father again? Where was Sidious taking him? What would he do to him-and them-while he was gone? "Should we cuff him sir?" Cody asked Sidious. His own force signature was muted beneath the Dark Side.

"No, no, commander. I don't believe he'll be of any trouble…He has family to think of, after all," Sidious cackled, with a wink at Padme. Anakin stiffened and glared at Sidious, fists clenching while his family watched, helpless, in the doorway. _A Jedi cannot protect them, young Skywalker, _The Dark told her again."Leave them alone, Sidious," he growled.

"We mean them no harm, Skywalker," Vader suddenly piped in. "As long as you _behave_," whatever that meant. Leia half hoped her father was the worst behaved criminal the Sith would ever have, for the pure fact that she wanted them to feel the pain of her disquiet.

Leia could feel Luke and her mother's fear for their father clear in the force. She gulped; sweat itching beneath her collar. "Father?" she peeped. He cast a glance in her direction; face hard. Yet it softened when he saw the palpable fear for him on their faces.

"I'll be alright…I promise," he vowed softly as he was ushered out of the door. It snapped closed behind him. Leia stared at the door a long time, heart thudding in her chest, reflecting that there were some promises that even her legendary father couldn't always keep.


	12. Slaves to the Empire

~Padme's POV~

They remained in total silence for a moment more after Anakin left, then Padme turned, haltingly, to examine the room where they were being imprisoned again. _So this was where you learned to be the man that I love, in this room, _she thought, delicately walking over to touch the counter.

"Well," she decided softly, heart in her throat. "It does us no good to sit around brooding. Come along, let's clean up a bit before your father comes…Home," she said softly, remembering the wistful affection in Anakin's eyes as he had gazed around at the place where he had learned the ways of the Jedi.

_"__I saved it for you,"_ Padme shivered when she remembered what Sidious had said. He had saved it for _twelve years_. How had he known that Anakin would be back eventually?

And why would he reserve a room so chock-full of happy memories and wonderful times for the day when Anakin did come? _What game are you playing at, Sith?_ She wondered.

Shaking her head, her worry for Anakin and the twins getting the best of her, she dug around in the kitchen cabinets. _Come on, Obi-wan you neat freak, I know you must have stockpiles of rags and cleaning supplies in here somewhere._

"Luke, go tidy up all those droid parts in there. Don't move anything major, just…_Straighten up_. Leia, remake Obi-wan's bed please. Just how it was before," she instructed the troops over her shoulder as she dug out a small bottle of dusted cleaner and an old rag that still smelled of vanilla and tea.

"As you say," Luke responded, sounding a bit shaky as he vanished into the other room. Leia did not answer, merely trotted off to do her bidding.

Padme sighed as she stood and started cleaning the countertops, dusting the crevices and corners with a reverent delicateness.

The small chore of cleaning helped her to keep a steady head as she reviewed over the current dilemma with detachment. Not only did she have to worry about Anakin and her family, but the rebels too.

She knew the Council would take over in her place for the moment being, but finding and saving her would become their first priority. Would they do something foolish to rescue her?

And what if they decided to attack the Death Star or some other risky exploit that the Rebels were not prepared for? Shantra and Onega should be able to… Was Shantra even_ alive_? Had Vader killed her after they were captured?

Then there was the matter of the other Sith and the Dark Side. Padme knew that it tried to tempt its victims using their deepest fears and insecurities. Would it drive Luke and Leia mad?

Were they ready to handle the strain? Anakin had said that there was still Light, hidden underneath the darkness, but what good would that do? And where had the Light come from? Had it indeed just stuck to the Temple after the Sith attacked, or was there some other reason?

_These questions will drive me mad. I have to find a way to get some information,_ she thought with frustration. One of the primes things Padme hated above all was _not knowing_. She hated that feeling of helplessness, of not being able to do a thing because she did not know what to do to help. Force, it was infuriating. How could anyone live in ignorance?

Suddenly, Luke walked back into the room. "Someone's coming," he reported briskly as he stared at the door. Padme tensed as Leia also exited the other room, taking up position by her brother. Where they there to take her children as well, knowing that Anakin was not around to stop them?

Her heart skipped a beat and she had to swallow panic. Was it the other Sith that had come to taunt or hurt them just for the fun of it? She knew that such things were common sport to the murderous lot. "Get behind me," she ordered her children. Just because she was not a Force sensitive did not mean that she would not defend Luke and Leia with her life if necessary.

"But…" Leia began, only to be silenced by Padme's stern eyes as she heard the ray shield on the other side of the door disengage. Unhappily, the proud twelve year olds took up position behind their weaponless mother, waiting for the enemy to emerge.

He did not keep them waiting long. Padme inhaled sharply, instantly recognizing Starkiller as he stepped into the room, burning yellow eyes glaring down at Padme and the Twins with almost boredom, as if they were no more than rather tedious and disgusting spiders. He stood proud before them by the door. He scowled at her defiant snarl, obviously unimpressed.

He took a few quick glances around the room, as if securing the perimeter, before nodding and stepping out of the way to allow a second person into the frame.

Padme watched, warily as a wiry frame of a Togruta, obviously slave by the scars of beatings on her bare arms, stepped into the room, head bowed and eyes downcast.

Her long, graceful blue and white head tails dripping down to her waist as she silently carried a basket of simple foodstuffs over to the small cooling unity and began stuffing the things inside. Padme felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up.

Yet there was _something_ about the way she carried herself, about the way she kept her shoulders locked straight and walked with an easy, confident gait despite her initial signs of domesticity, there was something about the way the very air around her just screamed of wisdom, inner dignity and strength that was _familiar_…

She heard Luke and Leia gasp in unison behind her as Starkiller closed the door, crossing his arms as he took up stance as bodyguard in the room, his eyes never moving from her and the twins.

The girl-or woman, it looked like, she was a good two inches taller than Padme, even barefooted as she was-did not react to the Twin's gasps, though she did cock her head to the sound in just a way that said it all.

Padme's knees buckled beneath her. _"Them, in my mind. The others are alive. I know they are, and they are __**suffering."**_ Anakin's voice wavered in her mind. She opened her mouth to call out, to_ say_ something, but her voice lodged unmoving in her throat.

It couldn't be. They were dead. _She_ was dead, there was absolutely no plausible way Sidious would have spared even a single one. After seven long years… It just couldn't_ be_…_Force, don't break my heart this way. Don't make me hope for so much to fail so hard. _

"Soka?" Leia whispered, Padme heard the tears of hope-or shock-in her voice. The woman seemed to notice them then, and the long forgotten nickname must have roused her from her stupor. Padme observed, speechless, as her head snapped up and large azure eyes sparkled at them from underneath thick black lashes.

Despite the obvious effects age and suffering had wrought on the young woman's face, she was still _gorgeous_, and those eyes, along with pertly set lips, were so distinctive and familiar to her that there was no mistake of who they were facing.

_Ahsoka Tano. _

Padme's own shock reflected in Ahsoka's eyes and face. Padme's legs buckled from beneath her and she had to fight against the impulse to faint dead away. "P-Padme?" Ahsoka asked softly. Her voice had not changed much, perhaps deepened a bit more, her Lekku had grown much longer, almost down to her waist.

Padme shook her head slowly and finally willed her feet to move forward. Tears stung at her eyes. Her heart hammered in her ears. She had dreamed of Ahsoka too, had heard her voice in her mind so many nights, and woken up with tears on her face, "A-Ahsoka?" she stammered in reply as Ahsoka slowly stood to her feet, watching Padme move slowly towards her as if in a trance.

Padme, herself, felt as if she were wading through the deepest depths of the sea, trapped in a dream so real she would surely wake in the morning to find tears on her cheeks again.

_After seven years, after how many times I've dreamed of them, it can't be real, _she thought blearily as her legs brought her to trembling halt before this replica of a girl who once used to be her own daughter. Luke and Leia stood where they were, transfixed, paralyzed by shock.

Padme reached up, hesitantly, not fully aware of what she was doing or what had begun happening, to caress Ahsoka's cheek with her fingers. The skin underneath was warm and hard, it was throbbing with blood, with life, with love, and the tear that ran into her fingers was solidly liquid. It was real._ She_ was real. "Ahsoka," Padme breathed.

Then, sudden, eviscerating, boiling_ joy_ ransacked her heart with magnificent beams of light over a plain humbled by grief, but never again whole. "AHSOKA!" Padme screamed, this time meaning it as she threw her arms around the much older version of her friend.

Ahsoka held unto her as tightly as if she suspected Padme might turn into thin air at any moment. "Padme," she mumbled incredulously, as the two women hugged each other tight.

"Padme...Force, how are you…? _What_ are you…?" Padme released her friend. Ahsoka was touching her, hands skimming lightly over her arms, her chest, her face and shoulders, eyes wide and tear-filled as she looked her over, still caught in a web of disbelief.

Padme grabbed her wrists, grinning, understanding the incredulity in Ahsoka's eyes. With exquisite care, noting how fragile the bones beneath her fingers felt, she pulled Ahsoka's hands forward and, quivering with suppressed sobs, gently placed them on her chest where beneath the pads a heart beat strong and true. Where life and realness pulsed as proof of existence.

Ahsoka looked up at her with wide eyes, feeling the heart. "PADME!" and Padme grinned as suddenly she found herself spun around in a tight hug that left her breathless with giddy laughter.

"Hi!" she agreed as Ahsoka set her down again, Padme's hand flew to cup the dirt smudged cheek immediately, an urgent need to _touch _being established between them.

Ahsoka's grabbed her other hand in both of hers, eyes frantically searching Padme's as if she needed to reassure herself that Padme was whole and unharmed.

"I…I mean I can't believe this," Ahsoka breathed, stuttering, eyes darting to take in every minute detail. "We had heard you were captured but we didn't believe it…Didn't think it could be true…Are you alright?" She finished the first full sentence they had spoken to one another in seven years. Padme laughed. Same old Ahsoka! "Fine," she breathed.

"Ahsoka?" said person looked over Padme's shoulders, and her Lekku paled to a lighter shade at seeing the twins. "_Luke? Leia?"_ She gasped. Her speaking their names broke the trance. Slow grins spreading over both faces, the twins erupted with a burst of speed, both ramming into Ahsoka at the same time like two nav-trains colliding with a wall.

Padme laughed as Ahsoka stumbled backwards, collapsing on the ground in the grip of two excited twelve year olds who had missed their older sister with a feverish need.

"Twins? Is that you? Force, is it you? Luke, Leia?" Ahsoka gasped from the ground, hands flying to touch faces, arms and shoulders with shock. "Soka!" was the unified response.

Shaking her head vigorously, Ahsoka suddenly grinned, tears streaking down her face as she grabbed both in a shattering hug. "Twins!" She squealed. "Force, _twins,_ look at you! You've gotten so big! How ya been, huh?" she demanded, standing hurriedly to take one hand from each grinning child.

"Ahsoka, we got your lightsabers!" Leia burst out panting. For a minute Ahsoka's brow creased as if she had never heard the word before, but then her smile only grew.

"Oh! My sabers! Well, I meant for you to have them, of course," she agreed, as if this piece of news was old but filled her with pride anyway. Suddenly, breaking into their joyous reunion, Starkiller cleared his throat.

"Ahsoka," he said softly. He jerked his head towards the door behind him. "We have to go," he told her pointedly. Ahsoka's face fell, but she nodded. "Yes, yes you're right," she mumbled ruefully.

Padme grabbed Ahsoka's arm quickly, desperate for her to stay. Her children likewise tightened their grips on her waist. "Will you be alright with him?" Padme demanded, glaring at Starkiller, ready to tear out his eyes if he attempted to hurt Ahsoka.

Her friend chuckled softly. "Don't worry, we have an… Alliance. He won't hurt me. Force, Padme, I'm so glad to see you, _all_ of you, but I must leave now…" Ahsoka gently pried Luke and Leia's hands from her waist, eyes shining. Her voice had cracked on the last word. Padme did not relinquish her grip on her arm. "The others?" her voice cracked as she nearly begged Ahsoka for information.

She was rewarded with a blazing smile. "They're alive. We are all alive. Listen, I'll try to bring the others here tonight but I have to go now," she repeated, grabbing Padme's hand in her own. Padme nodded; tears of sorrow now in her eyes as she quickly kissed Ahsoka's knuckles.

"Go then. But come back as soon as you can. Anakin will want to see you," she reminded her urgently. Ahsoka's eyes widened further. "Anakin is here too?" she gasped. "My queen," Starkiller glanced at the door once more, nervously. "Starry, can't you see I'm trying to have a kriffing moment? Be patient," Ahsoka snapped back at him.

Padme chuckled brokenly. Same old Ahsoka. Luke and Leia, as well, grinned. Ahsoka grinned back, a bit unsurely, and gave her a last nod before she turned and swiftly vanished out of the door, Starkiller on her heels. The door clicked shut, and the ray shield buzzed back to life on the other side. They were alone, and prisoners still.

They remained in a total silence for a moment more after Ahsoka left before Padme turned, haltingly, to the twins. They gazed up at her mournfully for a moment before joy once more overcame them. "THEY'RE_ ALIVE_!" The three of them exploded in unison. Then, animated with giddy delight, they linked hands and danced in a childish circle.

"They're alive! They're alive! They're all_ alive_!" they chanted, laughing hysterically and dancing without control as tear ran down their faces. The seven-year long nightmare was over.

* * *

~Anakin's POV~

Anakin followed Sidious and Vader through the tattered remains of the Jedi Temple. Inside of his chest, his heart wept for the destruction wrought on a once peaceful and beautiful building. The Jedi temple had stood for almost millennia, never having been touched by Darkness since its construction, Anakin had known that much from what little Obi-wan had managed to get him to study.

Now it was the Sith's land.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked Sidious quietly; when he noticed that they were taking a turn into what used to be the Archives. The hundreds of shelves were empty of any and all knowledge, everything the Jedi had ever known, everything that had ever been catalogued was gone.

Anakin had never been the scholarly type, but he had always felt a secret love for the Archives, for the pure fact that it had been here where Obi-wan first taught him to read.

The Archives had been a room of knowledge and wisdom, protected unfalteringly by Madame Nu, where generations of Jedi had come to read on the generations before them.

Where Anakin had first learned that his teacher wasn't always so critical, where council reports and mission records were put on file. The Archives had been essential to the Order, if not overly loved by Anakin. Now, it was gone.

_You've demolished Ilum, the Archives, taken our Temple_, he thought cynically to Sidious' back. _You don't even realize what you've destroyed, the beauty and culture here that you burned. You don't understand just what you've done to yourself, what a disservice you've brought on the galaxy. _

It had been a place of quiet, so different from Watto's shop. He remembered being very small, very afraid of his new surroundings, and asking Obi-wan where the information detailing pod-racing was.

He had spent the next two days sitting inside of an alcove with his teacher as Obi-wan taught him to read with those same books. _"You'll be a fast learner, Anakin…" _quickly, he looked away from the shattered remains of that serene spot. He glanced at the vaults to the Holocrons, to see the diamond shaped crystal orbs still glinting inside of their respective containers.

The soft blue glow around them had darkened into a blood maroon, the whisperings of younglings in their beds everywhere tainted until it was the screams of mothers as those same children were ripped from their arms and brought to the Sith. The Dark servants had access to every force sensitive born child in the galaxy. He shook his head mournfully.

"Tell me, young Skywalker," came the calm reply from Sidious. "Did you know that beneath the Jedi Temple there are hundreds of miles of solid iron and crystal, formed for centuries beneath the mountain the Temple rests upon?" Sidious asked him conversationally. Anakin recalled Master Gallia having said something about that when she taught one of his classes, but the memory was faint.

"Yes," he responded instead of elaborating the rest of this. Sidious merely nodded, silently giving his answer. Anakin saw the fanatic yellow eyes sweep the Archives. "So many secrets," he mumbled. "Not even I knew about the mines until we went through these Archives. How many other mysteries lurk within these walls, hmm?" He looked at Anakin as if he should know.

_Even if I did I wouldn't tell you. _Anakin looked away, instead trying to re-imagine the shelves full, standing upright instead of broken, and lying discarded across the floors. He tried to imagine Madame Jocasta right around the corner, ready to wittingly obliterate anyone's pride with the sharp burn of her tongue.

_There will always be peace in the end,_ he reminded himself slowly when he noticed a small, shriveled bone on the ground. He knew, from painful experience, that it was one of the bones in a child's arm. _So this place is now a graveyard, _his heart twisted in his chest, a lump gathered in his throat while his stomach rebelled against the image.

_Madame Jocasta would be most displeased,_ he thought sadistically, wondering where the body of that stout scholar was. He hoped that she had at least been allowed to die within the Archives, so that she would rest amongst the troves of knowledge she had so loved.

"We're going to the mines," he stated after a moment of silence. He knew Sidious was gloating, in that eerily silent way of his. He wanted Anakin to look around and see what had become of the temple, see how powerful the Sith had become off the spoils of others. Anakin had never considered the Jedi Temple home; that was always Padme's suite in the Senate Building, or before that, Obi-wan's quarters.

All the same, his gut still clenched, his heart wrenched and his stomach rebelled against the intentional slaughter of innocent lives, and the destruction of a peaceful place of learning. Underneath the grime and blood slated on the floors, the Jedi's symbol winked at him, almost as if it were sharing a private joke. _Look deeper, Anakin._

As if seeing that insignia had summoned it, he felt for the Light that he knew hid beneath the dark (did Sidious know it? Could he too sense the Light Side just beneath the shroud of the Dark?) and was surprised to find that it had gotten _stronger._ Whatever the source of Light was, they were nearing it.

The force tickled at the back of his awareness, a slight flutter of intuition that was more along the lines of the Unifying Force. He tensed, wondering what was going to happen, where the Light was coming from.

It was… So stifled he couldn't sense any details. Garbled, like a static laden transmission, but he could feel it there, nudging at him, tugging lightly. _Something _was about to happen.

With Sidious and Vader escorting him, he wasn't so sure he liked that idea. Finally, they came to the very back wall of the extensive enclosure that used to be the archives. Anakin looked at a set of doors that he knew for a fact had not been there before.

"I asked you, once, long ago, to join me Anakin," Darth Sidious said softly, turning Anakin's attention away from the door as Vader touched in the pass code.

Anakin determined to learn that pass code as soon as he could. "Do you remember my words? I asked: If I were as evil as you believe all Sith to be, why would I listen to you as well as I did? Why would I sympathize with you? Why would I_ understand_ you?" Yes, Anakin remembered.

The night of the Last Battles, where the council's plan to exterminate the Sith had gone horribly wrong. It seemed as if it had been thousands of years before when in all truth it had merely been twelve. They had underestimated Sidious's cunning back then. Anakin knew better now.

"I remember," he agreed darkly. "And my answer remains the same. I am Jedi. You won't turn me to the Dark Side," he replied coldly. The doors opened, Vader stepped aside and bowed mockingly at the waist.

"After you," he said, gesturing into the dark plain. Anakin's stomach roiled. But before he could move forward, Sidious placed a hand on his shoulder, halting him, _touching_ him.

"Before you go in there, my boy," he began, with the Chancellor's quiet and serene voice, the voice of a man Anakin had believed his only true friend. That had been long ago, and a time far away. "Let me tell you something," the Sith paused for dramatic effect, lowering his voice to a casual tone while golden eyes burrowed into Anakin's head.

"I am a man who gets what he wants, Anakin. Maybe not when I want it, but I do get it eventually. I had a vision the night you were born, and I saw you bow your obeisance to me. Your fall is _preordained_, young one," Anakin's jaw clenched. He swirled to face Sidious.

"Then you also must have seen your _death_," he hissed. Sidious did not seem at all worried. "Oh, I did," he cackled. "And it was by your hand, your hand which held a _red_ lightsaber. The Jedi are not the only ones with a prophecy, Anakin. The Sith have one as well, older, and greater. You were_ born_ to bring balance," Sidious's mouth stretched into a wry grin. A shiver ran down Anakin's spine. Sidious thought he was the Chosen One of a Sith prophecy?

_Am I?_

Anakin closed his eyes, shutting the image of Sidious and his reveling face from his mind. He wrestled with the rage that had been steaming inside of him since their capture days earlier. _Don't give in. Your anger makes him stronger. Your fear gives him strength, _he schooled himself once more creating a facial façade of indifference.

He opened his eyes again, and saw them blaze back at him from Sidious's pupils. "You must know by now," he whispered softly, trembling with the strife to remain calm, to not reach out and strangle Sidious with his bare hands now. Even if Vader or the Stormtroopers did not kill him, he would have been acting out of anger, revenge. He would have let Sidious win.

That was _not_ an option. "I will _never_ join the Dark Side willingly," he growled to him. Then he swirled on his heel, having nothing more to say. He heard the Sith chuckling sympathetically behind him.

"Oh, I think you will, Anakin. You won't have a _choice,"_ Sidious laughed as Anakin walked into the darkness. The first thing Anakin heard when he emerged on the other side of the door was the echoing clank of pick-axes and shovels, the creaks of wheels being dragged away.

Anakin, his heart suddenly thumping in his chest from the adrenaline shock of the force basically _shaking _him with its alert, paled as he tasted dust lodged in his nose and throat, making him cough.

The same coughs resounded from beneath, with more vigor. He gagged as the dry particles settled on his uvula and into his lungs with disconcerting ease, staring into the dimness of a spiraling staircase surrounded by circular walls of rock, as if he were inside a tower.

Down the stairs there was a reddish gold glow pervading from whatever awaited at the bottom, the reflections of fire clear in the way hunched shadows stretched over the stone.

The Force washed through him with warning.

Someone below gasped in pain as the crack of a whip echoed back to him, the exact sound from Anakin's vision. "Force, no," he mumbled, trying to ignore the voice deep inside that told him _exactly_ what he was going to see down there.

"I suggest you go on," Vader groaned, impatient as ever, from behind him. Anakin was not given a chance to answer before the villain shoved him from behind.

Stumbling, he allowed his legs to thunder him down the few dozen steps as fast as they were able until he came upon a metal deck that circled the room, providing a perfect view of what was happening beneath it.

Anakin staggered forward and grasped the railing, his eyes skimming the enormous cavern underneath them, breath coming in shallow gasps as he gawked in horror at the slaves mining the iron and crystals from the rock with mere pick-axes and shovels.

"No," he whispered, clenching the railing so hard his fists turned white. "No!" he cried again, hoarsely, his arms trembling, eyes wide and desperate. _This can't be happening. This isn't real. _

At the sound of his voice echoing off the hollow walls, the slaves, and the Sith slave drivers watching their progress, looked up. As one, the Jedi imprisoned below inhaled sharply, eyes widening to see him there.

Their shock whiplashed Anakin in the force. Anakin's eyes scoped the room to lock with the dark brown eyes of Mace Windu. From Mace his eyes swept across the room to take in the sights of Kit Fisto, Shaak Ti, Feo Kink, Geneva Fleeter, Raavi Uniper, Luminara Unduli, Jinx Zadya…

All there, all alive. The Jedi Order was_ alive_…And they were slaves.

Slaves to the _Empire._

Anakin swallowed the bile that threatened to sneak its way up his throat. They were being forced to mine the iron and crystal. Now he knew where the Light that hid underneath the dark was coming from. It was coming from the Jedi still here.

"Get back to work, you useless dogs!" Deathdera suddenly screeched with a crack of her whip against Luminara's back. The other Sith shouted similar things with the same motion. Pain flashed in the force as the Jedi inhaled more dust into their lungs and arched against the strikes.

Quickly, without saying a word, they returned to work, keeping their heads down. Fury threatened to throttle him. He closed his eyes for a moment to keep back the rush of tears.

"Let them go, Sidious," he ground out between clenched teeth. "I'm afraid not, my friend," Sidious said from behind, closer to Anakin than he had initially believed. He did not open his eyes. He did not want to accept the truth. His vision had been right.

Anakin had never before wished so feverishly to have been wrong.

"It's me you want. Why do you have to torture them, too?" he hissed. "Slavery is hardly torture, Anakin. Don't be so melodramatic," sniffed the Sith king. _Says the slave driver,_ Anakin observed.

"And besides, it's not every day one triumphs over the Jedi Order," he could feel the smirk aimed at his back. "I wanted to celebrate my victory, to bask in the aftermath to all my years of hard planning …Then there's also another reason," of course there was. There always was.

"I wanted them to be here for_ you_, Anakin. I knew that either one day I'd find you, and then you would see the truth, or you'd come looking for them, and see it that way," he explained.

Anakin could feel his jaw aching from how hard he was clenching it. _I swear you'll pay for this, _he swore wrathfully against Sidious and even the force itself. _You'll pay for what you've done to them, to me! _The metal underneath his fingers started to give.

But he sighed, shoulders slumping. As much as he wanted to kill Sidious, he dared not. Not now. "What do you want, Sith?" he asked softly. "Ah...So we get to the crux of the discussion," Sidious observed with hauteur.

"And the answer is always the same, my dear boy. I want_ you_, Anakin Skywalker…Pledge yourself to me and the ways of the Dark Side. Be my apprentice. Stand at my side and take your rightful place as co-ruler of The Galactic Empire. Fulfill your _destiny_," Vader's force signature _smoldered_ with jealousy and rage.

Anakin, who had been expecting such a thing, swallowed hard enough to physically_ feel_ the lump in his throat grow larger. The metal beneath his fingers snapped. "And if I refuse?" he asked huskily, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it spoken aloud.

"Then they die, of course. Every single one of them," Sidious yawned, as if it were of no great importance, as if he were not talking about killing good and innocent people, people who had had everything taken away because of Anakin and Sidious's obsession with him.

"Think of _that_, young Skywalker. And don't forget the others. I saved more than just a single room for you. Can you imagine the fun I might have killing say…Your old apprentice? She's grown into quite the attractive young lady," _Ahsoka? She's alive? Dear force no. Not my Snips. _Anakin bit his bottom lip to hold in a scream of despair. He couldn't give in, he couldn't…But force, he couldn't just let Sidious kill them!

"Or what about Master Kenobi? Some of my Sith daughters have a… _Fascination _with him, and I've managed to hold them off until now, but…" Sidious gave a small half shrug. Anakin shook his head slowly. _No, no, no._

"What about Luke and Leia? Padme?" Somehow, Anakin managed to sound completely nonchalant, as if he could not care one way or the other, as if some part of him did not want to prostrate himself before Sidious and _beg_ for the Jedi's release, beg for mercy…

Darth Sidious sighed as if he were being pained by an annoying child and his constant questions. "I suppose in the interest of _fairness_, I can be persuaded to make an exception…I will not trouble Senator Amidala, or the twins. They will stay in the Jedi quarters, unharmed…As long as you behave yourself," the warning in the last sentence struck a chord through Anakin's heart.

"What is your answer, Anakin? Do you pledge yourself to the ways of the Dark Side in exchange for the life of your friends?" Anakin's heart thudded din his chest. Force, what was the right thing to do? What _should _he do?

He would never be able to live with himself knowing that he had not only been the reason for seven years of toil but the unimaginable death he had envisioned for them too.

He couldn't leave them again. He would not run, not that there was any last minute escape pod to run into… But if he did eventually turn, wouldn't he just kill the Jedi himself anyway? Wouldn't that be betraying every ideal they had suffered and toiled for?

But if they died, the Light would die too. Anakin would be lonely again. He had just learned that he was not the last Jedi. He did not want to go back to the isolation of knowing that he was. _I can't face this alone. I can't be the last one again. _

He bit back a sob and finally opened his eyes to see Mace Windu staring up at him, his wearied and sleepless eyes wide with understanding of the deal Sidious must have given him, the conflict happening inside of Anakin at the moment…And compassion. Anakin shook his head slowly, unwilling to let that compassion die…Yet knowing that it could very well die anyway, by his own hand, sometime in the future.

Desperately, he sought guidance from a man who had once been a respected friend, who had been one of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. Mace's eyes, which by all rights, should have been dull and lifeless with defeat, sparkled back with the stubborn willfulness of a Jedi, with bone deep _belief _that no matter what happened, there would be peace in the end.

And he was gonna be there to see it.

With a single look, he conveyed all of this and more. Then, Mace gave him a single nod, and Anakin, nodding back, turned and sank to one knee before Sidious, head bowed as his heart swore that it would _never _betray the Light. "Yes…Master."

* * *

For those of you who are at this moment yelling: 'hey, what the heck? You said they were dead!" My answer is yes, it was my intention that you think they were dead, but no, I never actually said that they were. If you'll remember, one of the last lines in The strength of The Sacrifice was this:

_ "FIRE!" Sidious let his hand drop. No one cried out as the clones obeyed, and the only sound in the bridge that of Sidious's mad cackling and the hollow thump of inert bodies against the hard, cold deck._

Inert merely means motionless, and I never did specify whether the clone's blasters were set to _stun_ or _kill_. That being said, I think many of you figured it out with the little clues I put in the start that the Jedi wasn't done for yet, and well done to you! Reader power. So, now that this is covered, let us continue.

~QueenYoda


	13. Long journey

~Ackbar's POV~

Admiral Ackbar was a devoted man, one who gave everything he had to something-or someone-who proved they deserved such loyalty. Democracy, peace, the future promise of a new Republic had proven that it was worthy in his eyes, countless times.

Once, he had had a family who had proved themselves as well, but they had been killed by the Sith.

Dooku had kidnapped them seven years earlier. Had Ackbar not done as he said, Dooku threatened to kill them. So, going against the Alliance he loved, against the people he trusted, he had gone along with the game, every night fearing for his wife and children.

Dooku had killed them anyway. No matter that Ackbar had helped betray the Jedi and the Rebel for him, not going against his word. The Sith chosski had gone against his own, and now Ackbar was a widow and childless.

There had not been many people whom he hated as much as he abhorred Yan Dooku. When he had been brought back to the Sith Palace with the enslaved Clone troopers, he had vowed that he would have his revenge for the deaths of his family, for tricking him into betraying people who trusted him.

But revenge would have to wait another day.

On this day, Admiral Ackbar snuck around in the thin crowd at the foot of the Sith Palace, waiting cloaked in an abandoned alley for his contact to arrive so that he could give her the news and receive some as well. The Skywalker's were under the unmerciful controls of the Sith, but they were alive at least. What was going to be done to get them out of the predicament?

Looking both ways; Ackbar sighed noisily. He had been waiting under cover of night for about two hours now. Where _was _she? Being in the Rebellion did not inspire idleness; they had work to do, plans to formulate for goodness sakes! And she was too powerful to just go and get captured. And here she was doing everything she wanted on her time and willy-nilly as if the entire universe revolved around _her _schedule…

"Relax, Ackbar, I'm right here," The Admiral gasped shrilly and swirled around just as a swift and sleek shadow curled down from the building roof above with considerable grace less disciplined men would have appreciated.

Before Ackbar could open his mouth and demand an explanation for her tardiness, a second shadow jumped down from the building tops, less controlled but no less nimble and the two women stepped into the dim light together, loose cloaks obscuring the skeletal builds and sabers beneath.

Ackbar's already considerably large eyes widened further when he saw a small girl with fiery red hair and emerald eyes staring back at him from beside Ventress, eyes shining with amusement because of his disgruntlement. Was that Tarkin's lost daughter? The one who was supposed to be apprenticed to _Darth Sidious?_

"You!" he choked, recognizing the child who had run away from the Sith Palace, which was _right there_, pointedly, a few weeks before. She cocked a brow at him, pulling off the signature Ventress look that said: 'you just now realized I was standing here? Way to practice observation skills, dude.'

Admiral Ackbar really did _not _need another Ventress. The universe probably would not survive unscathed either, nor the Rebellion. "What is _she _doing here?" he demanded as he turned to the tall woman standing before him, tattoos menacingly dark in the dim light, pale blue eyes characteristically hard and unusually sarcastic.

"She's wanted by Sidious, and to add to it she's Tarkin's _daughter_! Born and bred Empire enthusiast. She should_ not_ be here!" he told her firmly, fairly spitting with his indignance that Ventress would even consider bringing this…Sith spawned _vetch _to a secret meeting.

Ventress nodded once. "I know what she is. But I don't trust her not to accidentally blow up anything vital in a fit of rage if I leave her at my place alone, and besides she comes in handy occasionally," Ventress cast an slightly less callous glance back at her silent companion, who suddenly gave the Admiral a wolfish grin.

"Get used to it, fish-man. We're_ partners_ now, Saji and I," she informed him haughtily. Ackbar choked on his next intake of air. Ventress shot the girl a homicidal glance over her bony shoulder, which was smugly ignored by the other woman.

"Partners?" he gasped, spluttering with shock. Then, realizing something more, he added with some amusement, _"Saji?"_ Obviously, it was some sort of nickname that faintly resembled Asajj.

Commander Ackbar was surprised-and not a bit more fond of the kid-when the woman responsible for his three heart attacks that night had the courtesy to blush lightly. "I_ told_ you not to call me that!" Ventress snapped. The young girl, no older than eleven years old, shrugged.

"And I told you not to call me kid. My name is Mara Jade. But listening isn't your thing, now is it, Saji?" Ackbar cringed at the cheek of this child, cheek he remembered well.

He had encountered her a scarce few times in his career, and found the child ill mannered, malicious, sarcastic, and unpleasant. Why Ventress had not yet beaten her into her rightful place was beyond him.

Ventress rolled her eyes. "Don't test me, kid," she growled back, without much threat. The girl grinned victoriously, but Ackbar noticed she did not say anything more.

He looked up at Ventress sharply. "She can't stay. She may be a spy sent by Tarkin," he reminded her, wondering why she had not already deduced this and what game she was plying.

"She hates her father, Sidious and the Sith in general," Ventress bluntly replied. "Besides, she knows what I would do to her if she were a spy. She's seen me in action enough to have a good idea. Don't you, kid?"

With that, the she-witch (for Ackbar still considered her a good-for-nothing Sith assassin, despite the trust others hesitantly placed in her because of her connections with the underground and within the palace) grabbed the girl by the back of the neck threateningly.

The young girl showed no signs of fear except for the swift intake of breath she took and the way hesitance flashed in her emerald eyes. "Whatever," she growled, eyes darting to the ground. "I'm not a spy, anyway. If I were, I'd find better wells of information that you two," she grumbled.

"Pleasant little thing, isn't she?" Ackbar retorted dryly, convinced but wary. "She's good enough," Ventress agreed, taking away her hand to cross her arms. "Now, rumors are flying. Are the Skywalker's alright or has Sidious already drawn and quartered them?" She asked; frank as usual.

Ackbar nodded. "We have an affirmative from Ahsoka. They're alive, for how long she doesn't know. She plans on getting more information tonight," he reported. "Has the council decided on how they're going to rescue them?" he asked.

Ventress snorted. "The Council is bickering amongst themselves like younglings. Half of me misses Amidala. Tell the Togruta to hurry up and get a connection to her so that she can relay orders directly through us. Otherwise the rebellion could be in total disarray by tomorrow morning," she grunted.

Ackbar sighed deeply, accepting this. He had expected better from the Rebel Council, but no doubt they were flustered and alarmed by the capture of their Chancellor and the last Jedi…Well, to them the last Jedi. It wasn't common knowledge about Sidious's slaves. The lowest spies amongst them kept the secret strictly in their ranks.

If even the smallest whisper got out that the Jedi were alive…It could complicate things with the public, and their adversaries would grow exponentially over night. As if the Rebellion did not have enough worries. "The Jedi are spies?" Mara asked from beneath them, curiously. They both turned to glare sternly at her.

"What did I tell you about_ talking_?" Ventress hissed. The girl sighed, moping. "Don't speak unless spoken too, I know…But I was only asking. They are? I never met a Jedi before. Well, I saw Yoda once, but he was….Hey!" She squawked when Ventress took one of her sabers, and, quicker than the eye could see, thwacked the girl upside the head with the weapon.

Ackbar cringed in sympathy when he heard the sharp clack of metal against skull. Still, it was not as if he did not agree with the sentiment. In fact, he believed it was long over do and well deserved. Had her father ever paid any attention to the girl, and given her a good smack every once in awhile, she might be a _proper_ young lady.

He nodded in approval as the girl rubbed her sore and no doubt stinging ear. "Shut up, kid," came the motherly chastisement from the girl's patient partner. "What are the Council's orders?" The admiral wondered, turning back to Ventress.

"For now? Stock up on information, tell the Jedi to try and keep them in one piece, not that they think the Jedi aren't busy or anything, being slaves and all. Stay vigilant, look for weakness, chinks in Sidious' armor. Wait for further orders," she named off.

Ackbar sighed. "That's not good enough," he growled in frustration. Ventress shrugged, but he saw the same annoyance in her eyes. The Alliance should be_ acting_, not planning. The Council underestimated Sidious…And the Dark side. Putting three force users among the torment one knew intimately and the other had seen in the eyes of the younglings for an extended amount of time was a _very _bad idea.

Yet they were merely the humble spies. What else could they do?

"I have a bad feeling about this," Mara dared to speak again. Yet this time, neither of them said a word or punished her for stating what all three felt in their hearts. This was going to be a _long _journey.


	14. Family

~Anakin's POV~

Anakin was more than relieved to be returned to Obi-wan's quarters almost three hours after he had left.

Heart throbbing with self-loathing, indecision and joy, muscles still aching from the previous fight and mind reeling from undernourishment and the strain of up holding his metal shields against the dark's onslaught, he stumbled into the room and dimly noted that it was locked and then ray shielded behind him.

It hardly mattered. He had already memorized the pass code. Cody had not been very _secretive _when punching in the cryptogram. Some part of Anakin wanted to meditate on this.

He would do it later, and meditate also on what the heck he could possibly manage to do about the Sith he had just sworn himself too. Pushing these thoughts from his mind, Anakin focused on the present task with the ease of someone who was accustomed to life or death problems every other day. He was excited by the visualization of telling Padme and the twins that his vision had been _true_.

The Jedi were alive. Suddenly, he grinned, imagining the look on her face when she realized that the seven-year long nightmare was at an end. He could almost feel their joy in the air.

Or maybe that was the elation in his own heart to know that his family, his friends were alive yet. Force, he had to find a way to see them if not speak with them! Was Lux alive, too? The other Rebel leaders?

Where were they; or had they been in the mines as well, only deeper down? And he had not seen or sensed all of the Jedi Order in the mining cavern. He assumed only the strongest were permitted down there, into the living necropolis.

Anakin still coughed occasionally, his lungs stinging with the dust particles settled on the bottom. Anakin walked into quarters, and instantly noted that the dust had been cleared off the counters and a small amount of food piled into the cooling unit. He narrowed his eyes.

He could sense his family in his old room, probably too busy fiddling with droid parts to have noticed his arrival no doubt. "Honey, I'm home!" He called, feeling some of his old charm come back as he said it teasingly.

Swiftly, the door into his old room opened and three people rushed out. "Ani!" Padme gasped in obvious relief, throwing her arms around his neck, fingers digging into the back of his head. Anakin hugged her back equally as hard, burying his nose in her silky hair, immensely glad to have been rewarded a chance to hold her in his arms again.

Then he stepped back, and two twelve year olds bombarded him. "Force!" he gasped, doubling over when they rammed into him with the force and speed of ships coming out of hyperspace. "I'm glad to see you all too!" he gasped. "We were worried about you, father," Luke mumbled into his stomach.

"Yeah…It took all I had to keep mother and Luke held together," Leia agreed, as he held them at arm's length, smiling down into two faces identical to him and Padme. He laughed at Leia's comment as Luke shoved her playfully. _They seemed to be overly eager about something,_ Anakin noticed vaguely.

"Anakin, we have something to tell you," Padme began, moving forward just as Anakin looked up and said.

"I have some news for you three." They stared at one another uncertainly for a moment, wondering whose news would be better.

Then, unable to hold back any longer, Anakin said; "The others are alive!" At the exact moment, Padme and the twins cried; "The others are alive!" Gawking at them, Anakin recoiled.

Maybe not such new information after all. "What? How did you find out?" he asked, not seeming to notice the similar look of surprise that flirted across Padme's face.

"Soka came here!" Luke piped in. Anakin's head snapped down to stare into delighted azure eyes, then back up, paling between movements.

"_Ahsoka Tano_? In here? When? How? Where is she now?" He gasped, hardly daring to believe it. Sidious had all but told him that she was alive himself but…But force she had been here!? He had missed it?

"She was here not even two hours ago, Ani. She came in with Starkiller," Padme explained. Anakin tensed at the Sith's familiar name. "Starkiller?" he gasped. Padme nodded ruefully, smiling humorlessly at the dismay in his eyes.

"Don't worry; she said they had an… _Alliance_. They had to leave in a hurry," she told him. Anakin's mouth twisted at the edges. It was frequent for slaves to form such coalitions with their owners in order to keep themselves and those around them out of harm's way.

He remembered that his mother had made such a _pact _with the one of the slave auctioneers when he was small to ensure that they would be sold together. It seemed as if Ahsoka had learned the trick of survival.

Anakin wished it had not been so. He hoped he did not have a chance to get his hands on Starkiller any time soon…Or he would in no gentle terms tell him the deal was kriffing _off_.

"I see," he replied acerbically, instead of saying all of this. "Did she say when we could see her again?" He asked. Padme nodded and bit her bottom lip. "She said she'd try to bring the others here later tonight," she said. Anakin knew that that could range from midnight to two o clock in the morning.

He determined himself to wait. If Ahsoka said she would come, he had no doubt that she would. "She seemed like she was in a real hurry, though," Leia contemplated, eyes wide with worry. "And she was dressed in rags, and came in with her head down like the slave kids on Tatooine would around their masters," Luke added.

Anakin sighed deeply, wondering if he should say this while the Twins were around, and then coming to the conclusion that they were bound to find out soon anyway. "That's how I found out," he reported grimly, crossing his arms. "Sidious took me down to old mine shafts underneath the temple. Crystal and iron is abundant down there. I saw…The Jedi, toiling, working as Sidious's slaves," he ground out.

His family gasped, each going pallid. "T-they're…?" Leia trailed off, shaking her head fractionally in denial as she stared up at him with horror. "They're Sidious's slaves," Padme finished softly, her own shoulders slumping under impossible weight.

"After all these years, they have been alive…And enslaved. Oh, no," she gulped. "But why?" Luke piped in furiously. "Why would Sidious keep them alive and enslave them instead of just killing them? They're dangerous here," he pointed out.

"And why haven't they escaped yet? There aren't that many Sith, and I bet they could get away if they wanted too!" Leia added, just as enraged by what her family had gone through.

Padme was watching his face intently. "It's because of you, isn't it?" She asked, her quiet voice silencing the twins. "He blackmailed you. If you don't do what he says, if you don't agree to become his apprentice, he'll kill them. All of them, in the worst ways he can think of," she came to the only reasonable deduction that there was.

Anakin nodded miserably. The twins looked back and forth between their parents. Anakin looked away, ashamed. "But you can't become Sidious's _apprentice_!" Luke said, stricken. "But he can't let them _die,_ either!" Leia contradicted.

Anakin nodded as the implications set in and hit home. He was trapped with only one option or the other. There was nothing else he could have done that he could have lived with…But force he just could not turn. He could not do that to his family either!

"What are you going to do, father?" Luke whispered, seeing the impasse, turning to him with eyes wide with innocence, trusting eyes that saw him as omnipotent. If only it were true. Anakin's shoulders slumped underneath the weight of impossible burdens. Half of him wished to lie, but the sensible part of him also knew they deserved the truth.

"I…I don't know," he whispered, very much wishing that he had something, _anything_ more to tell them. Luke and Leia fell silent, staring up at him anxiously. Silence settled around them, blanketing them in shivers of hopelessness. At length, Padme's spirit pulled them through again.

"Well," she said firmly. "I'll tell you what _we're_ going to do. We're going to remain right here and wait until Ahsoka arrives with the others. And then we are going to sit down and decide our next move as a_ family_, for stars sake," she harrumphed, defiant in the face of doubt. Anakin looked up and gave her a grateful smile, emboldened by her words. He didn't know what he would do without Padme.

"Your mother is right. We're about to be a _real_ family again," he agreed, eagerness getting the best of him. Force, he couldn't wait to see them all. Would they be all right?

Would he recognize them? Would they recognize _him_? Would they all still manage, or had they grown too far apart to once more get along with one another? "Let's focus on that," he elected. The grin from the twins could have melted the ice caps on Hoth.

_**Later:**_

A blanket of darkness had long descended on Courascant when Anakin sensed others outside of the door. In a flash, recognizing the force signatures of Light, if not the individuals themselves, he rushed out of Obi-wan's former space without a word, heart galloping in his chest.

From the other side of the apartment, Luke and Leia appeared from his old room; eyes wide with hope. Padme, who had been sitting on the couch with a sort of trance-like patience that was somewhat creepy, staring at the door, smiled faintly.

Anakin inhaled deeply, he had no idea what he would see when they…Force, he knew what slavery could do to a person. Had they given up? Were they sad and dispirited, broken or enraged? Would Anakin find some of them with a limp or one eye gorged out? Had the girls been taken advantage of by the Sith? He gulped as dozens of possibilities flashed before his eyes. He just didn't know _what_ to expect.

Suddenly, the sound of the ray shield on the other side being lowered and a loud clang that announced the door had been unlocked echoed across the room, where they stood in a line, breath baited.

Anakin felt Padme grab his arm. He glanced down at Luke and Leia who stood beside him, stiff with anticipation. _Please be alright,_ he begged his friends, friends who he had mourned for a long seven years. _Please be safe, don't tell me I've failed you so. _

Suddenly, the door slid open a smidge; and a small head peeked through. Anakin gawked at Ahsoka as she scanned the inside, intense eyes searching the area. When her eyes landed on him, a delighted smile split her face. Wordlessly, she turned and gestured to some others behind her, who then, swift as alley cats, filed into the room one at a time.

Anakin was aware that he wasn't breathing, and didn't know if anything could be done about it as he faced the five others standing shocked in front of the door, which hurriedly locked back into place. His eyes traveled over Ahsoka, Intrepid, Lux, Nava…And _Obi-wan_ with awe.

Time halted for an instant, motionless, where the very essence of space itself stood stock-still and the universe came to a screeching halt as the Force called for a pause in _all _deliberations galaxy wide in respect for the triumphant moment of reunion.

But to all things there was a season, and the end of this abrupt halt in time concluded in a timeless salute that moved faster than light speed.

With a unified cry of elation, they all rammed into each other in a hug.

Anakin laughed as he spun his former apprentice (was she as tall as him now?) around in a circle jubilantly. "Ahsoka! Force, Snips, _hi_," he gasped, this being the only thing he could think of to say.

"Hi, master," Ahsoka retorted tearfully. Her voice was deeper, but otherwise unchanged. Anakin held her at arms' length, worried eyes racking over the scars on her arms and neck.

The tattered rags she had for clothes were the standard blood red that seemed to be the Sith's trademark color, and were infernally too small for her. Hanging on by one thin strap, baring her muscular arms and shoulders, her shirt clung to the fine lines of her body, obviously there for the sole purpose of accentuating such curves.

The long, papery skirt she wore did not help matters either. Glancing around, he saw Intrepid and Nava in the same garb. His jaw clenched when he realized what the Sith men must have thought the women were good for.

Ahsoka noticed the anger in his eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm okay, Sky-Guy. No one has hurt me," she promised him. Anakin let out a breath of relief and pulled her back into a tight hug, he had never wanted to hear any name more than he had wanted to hear that one. "I've missed you Snips," he mumbled. "Feelings mutual, master," Anakin chuckled softly at the old nickname before he released her again.

"Soka!" Leia cried, running up, her face glowing with happiness that shined like a star in the force. Anakin stepped back to allow the two sisters to get reacquainted. "Age has been merciful to you, Ani," a softer voice whispered from behind him.

He swirled around to take in the smiling form of Nava Venerate. "Nava," he breathed, glad to once again see those purplish blue eyes grinning at him with the same quiet strength of Shmi. Nava had always been like a surrogate mother to him. He grabbed her to him tightly.

"Force, Nava," he mumbled in her hair as she hugged him with all the ferocity of a mother's embrace. She stepped back, a hand on his cheek. He looked down at her affectionately, and laid his real hand atop hers as she scanned his eyes as if she expected to find something missing.

There were wrinkles in the corner of her eyes, a new weariness inside of her pupils, a bit more boniness to her hands and body, and he saw a bit of grey seeping into the curls around her scalp, but otherwise, she was too unchanged.

"Oh, darling, you look so handsome…How old are you now?" She gasped, bringing tears to his eyes. His mother had said the same thing before... He smiled wanly.

"What do you mean? I'm still twenty-four," he lied. Nava chortled softly and nodded, taking her hand away. Anakin missed it. "Good boy," she agreed with all the old spark of liveliness that she was so good for.

"If you're twenty four that means I'm still thirty-three. I like this new change," she agreed cheerily. Anakin laughed and shook his head. "I've missed you, so much," he choked. Nava's eyes softened as she smiled at him.

"I've missed you too," she agreed mellifluously. "Obi-wan?" Anakin asked, glancing round. Where had he gone? Nava suddenly scowled worriedly. "In denial for the moment. Still, I'm glad you've come…He_ needs_ you, Ani," Anakin's heart skipped a beat at the worry in her tone, but before he could demand what Obi-wan needed him _for_, Nava moved away to once again envelop Padme in a hug. Anakin then found himself face to face with Lux Bonteri.

His jaw dropped_. "Lux?"_ he gasped, staring at the youth who was now half an inch taller than him, with a small scruff of beard clinging to a handsome face. Lux's deep brown eyes, weary but smiling, gazed back at him with tears sparkling in the depths.

His right arm, a gold metal replica like Anakin's, glinted in the light. It appeared there was no cover for it. "Anakin," he greeted, stretching his uncovered mechanical hand for a warrior's grip.

Anakin noticed bruises on his bare arms and visible underneath the loose fitted shirt he wore. The open necked shirt was graying with age and the baggy pants ripped and frayed.

Anakin snorted. "Don't think just because you're taller than me means you get to back out of a hug," he informed him. Lux laughed as Anakin grabbed his younger counterpart in an embrace. Lux had always been like the son/little brother Anakin had never had.

"Kriff, what happened to you? And what is up with this thing on your face?" he couldn't resist teasing, ruffling Lux's hair for the fun of it. Lux blushed and looked away. "It doesn't look weird, does it? I have no way of getting the thing off," he mumbled.

Anakin realized that Lux probably had not had a choice in whether he wanted the beard or not. Slaves weren't granted such luxuries as razors. Anakin rubbed his chin thoughtfully, eyes glinting. "No, you look good," he assured him. "It's just…A beard. And who gave you permission to grow taller than me?" he then demanded, changing the subject.

Lux shrugged. "Not my choice, trust me. I didn't even realize I had grown so much. In my defense, though, I don't remember giving Luke and Leia permission to grow either," he pointed out. Anakin nodded to this assessment. "I know. They went and did it behind my back," he explained woefully.

Lux laughed and clapped Anakin on the shoulder. "It's…Good to see you, Anakin," he replied. Anakin nodded and gently touched a yellow and purple bruise on Lux's arm, eyes darkening. "Damn the Sith," he mumbled. Lux squeezed his shoulder.

"It looks worse than it is. Don't worry," well, so far to Anakin it seemed no one had changed much. They were all just as lively, just as strong and just as stupidly thinking he_ really_ wasn't going to worry about them. "Too late," he mumbled bitterly, glancing up into the hard but kind expression.

He sighed. "You've become a man," but why in the blazes had he been forced o do it as a_ slave_? Lux deserved better than that. They all deserved better than their current existence.

"Glad you think so," Lux replied mildly. "For some reason, the rest of us still call him Separatist boy," Intrepid disagreed, pretending to study Lux closely as she approached.

Lux rolled his eyes as Anakin grasped her in an unyielding hug. "Sister," he half whispered and half laughed into her ear. "You ought not to tease the men," he scolded playfully. Lux snorted.

"She doesn't care about what she ought not to do to the men. Our pride is her last concern," he laughed, then walked to grapple Luke in a bear hug. "Exactly," Intrepid gasped as Anakin released her. She grinned up at him, emerald eyes sparkling.

"Good to see you too," she agreed as Anakin's eyes swept her over, noting the obvious scars and bruises adorning her too. His jaw clenched. Sidious was going to get an _earful_ out of him.

Shaking his head he stored the thought away for later. "Are you alright?" he asked with concern. Intrepid smiled gently, she, to, had grown taller, though she did not override him _yet._

The weary dejection that hid behind her eyes was new, but the quiet dignity and compassion was not. Force, he was glad they were all virtually unscathed by the things they had witnessed.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. You're a bit pale," he chuckled humorlessly. "Well, of course. I just found out that the family I've believed dead for seven years is alive. A lesser man would have blacked out," he was close though. So very close.

Intrepid smiled into his eyes and silently wiped away a tear he had not been aware was falling down his cheek. "I'm fine," she assured him. Anakin scoffed. "If there is anything I have heard today more than anything else, it has _got_ to be that," he complained.

Intrepid gave a small half shrug. "We_ are_ still Jedi," she pointed out. Anakin laughed as he pulled her into another hug. "Yeah," he gulped, throat tight. "Yeah. I'm glad you are," so very glad.

Then, letting her go, he cocked his head when he noticed that he had only one more person that he had not yet encountered. Intrepid, noticing his unease, nodded to something behind him.

Anakin turned to see Obi-wan Kenobi leaning casually against the door, arms crossed as he stared straight ahead, face expressionless. Anakin gulped when he saw the blind eyes, oblivious to all that they landed upon.

Numbly, he patted Intrepid's shoulder and moved slowly over to stand before his best friend. Obi-wan cocked his head at the sound of his approach and straightened, suspicion and wariness rolling off him in waves through the force. Anakin nodded.

After all, why should Obi-wan believe it was really them? Sidious had made a clone of him before, and it would not be out of the bounds of the Sith's nonexistent conscious to create another just to get close to his Jedi slaves. Anakin wondered if he had done it before.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat, eyes searching the scars of past beatings and lingering bruises on Obi-wan's body. Nevertheless, his old master stood proud before him, not slouching, though there were wrinkles around his blind eyes and streaks of white in his beard.

He was unafraid, but not in a way that was blatantly defiant, Obi-wan would never be one with the ostentatious insolence, he fought back with quiet acceptance and immortal strength of will.

Anakin's mind reeled, force he had perhaps missed Obi-wan most of all. His brother, his best friend, he had mourned Obi-wan with a deepness that would not be extinguished even now that they were close enough so that Anakin could feel Obi-wan's warmth.

Suddenly, his eyes fell on a small piece of string tied around Obi-wan's right bicep and inhaled sharply. It was the armband that Anakin had given him, all those years ago, on Courascant. The engraved Huttese words, _brothem_ stuck out at him. Tears flooded Anakin's eyes. Obi-wan had kept it. He had_ kept_ it all these years…

"Master?" Anakin whispered hoarsely. At the sound of his voice, Obi-wan cringed, Anakin knew that it pained him to hear him without knowing if it was truly him or not.

Cautiously, Obi-wan's eyes fell on Anakin's face directly, as if he were straining to _see_ his face without the ability to do so. Anakin gulped. Leave it to Obi-wan to try and see without any sight.

"Anakin?" The low velvety tone had not changed over time, though it was a bit hoarser with age. Anakin felt his eyes burn with tears. He had missed him so much, and yet he could sense Obi-wan didn't believe it was him… He wanted too. Anakin could sense how much he desperately_ wanted_ to believe it was truly him…Force, he was such an untrusting chosski. Anakin loved him too much to keep him in suspense.

All the same, there were enough memories between them to provide Anakin with ample ways to prove it. He closed his eyes, mind going back to a moment, _Force,_ nine years earlier when having been raised from the dead, unsure if he were seeing a hallucination, Obi-wan had used_ touch_ to confirm that Anakin was real.

Speechless from joy as he had been those years earlier, Anakin gently took one of Obi-wan's hands into his own. The hand was slick. He could feel Obi-wan tense, but he did not fight as Anakin retraced that path with Obi-wan's hand, groping up his arm tentatively.

He could sense Obi-wan begin to tremble as he touched the identical armband around Anakin's left bicep with the engraved Huttese words _brothen_ on them. Anakin had held onto the token he had made for them just as long. Anakin's heart was having a blasted _party_ in his ribcage as Obi-wan's hands reached his face, the skin tingling with the remembered touch.

The Jedi master, the Force around him swirling with the memories of that moment between them, sacred, private, something Sidious could _never _have found out or duplicated, placed a trembling hand on Anakin's brow and gently traced the scar running down Anakin's eye with exquisite care.

"Anakin," Obi-wan finally gasped; his entire face suddenly and speedily bleaching of color as his eyes widened, the Force around him _burst _into a symphony of realization.

A second later, with identical cries of joy, they were in each other's arms, hugging, laughing together, tears of wonder running down both sets of faces, finally _brothers_ once again after so many years.

"Anakin, Force, my Anakin," Obi-wan breathed, hands flying to cup his face, to grab his shoulders, squeeze his arms, trying to touch what he could not see. Anakin barely paid any attention to the tears streaming down his cheeks. "Hi, master," he choked out, almost sobbing with his relief. "Hi?" Obi-wan let out a breath of a laugh. "After seven years the only thing you have to say to me is _hi_?" he inquired teasingly.

Anakin smiled. "I missed you," he added. Obi-wan chuckled and pulled him into a tighter hug, Anakin's forehead resting on his shoulder. "Well," Obi-wan snickered into his ear, beard tickling his neck. "I suppose that's a bit better. I missed you more anyway," he argued.

Anakin could only shake his head as he pulled back, his turn now to touch and examine worriedly. "You're alright?" he asked frenziedly, understanding what a hell the Sith must have been making his life when they noticed his blindness. "No one has hurt you? Force, master, your eyes…" he trailed off as he sensed two people behind him.

He turned to see Leia walk up, slowly, uncertain if she should stop the reunion. "I think his eyes are still pretty," said the biggest fan Obi-wan had ever had. Anakin grinned as Obi-wan cocked his head, shock clear in expression. "Is that Leia?" he asked. "And Luke," added the second twin as he came to stand beside his sister.

"Force," obviously having a good idea of what was coming, Obi-wan dropped to his knees in time to catch the two freight trains that smashed into his arms a second later. "Stars above, you two have gotten big," Obi-wan gasped. Despite the fact that he was staring straight ahead beyond them, his hands still managed to land on both shoulders.

"How old are you two now? Eleven?" he inquired with wonder in his voice. "Twelve," Luke corrected, sniffling from the excitement of the day. "_Twelve?"_ Obi-wan gasped, standing. "Nava did you hear that?" he asked. Perceptively, Nava appeared, arms thrown companionably over Padme's shoulders.

Padme also had her own arm wrapped around Nava, grinning from ear to ear. Anakin smiled back, he had not seen Padme grin so hugely in a very long time. "I heard it," Nava sighed, ruefully shaking her head at the twins. "I don't know what we're going to do with all these children, Obi. We're getting too old for this," she sighed histrionically.

"Ah, Nava, oldness is a point of view," Padme said airily waving her hand. Nava chuckled. "Padme, I know you're only trying to make us feel better, but all saying that really did was remind us that we're so old we were the ones who came up with it," she snorted.

The joy of everyone fairly swirling in the air around them; they laughed together, the first unified family laugh in seven years. Anakin threw an arm over Obi-wan's shoulders, eyes sweeping to take in his family, a family that was now whole again. _For how long, Anakin? Who's to say Sidious will not kill them during your training?_ The Dark Side whispered to him.

Anakin shivered; unable to comprehend, to accept that he might lose them again…He would rather die first. To distract himself he handled the secondary problem they faced. "You all look as if you're starving," he pointed out, swiping a hand across his face to rid any last traces of tears.

"By normal standards, so we are," Intrepid chuckled. "Unacceptable," Anakin decided sternly. "He still has his 'you haven't eaten' protests, does he?" Ahsoka inquired of Padme, who sighed and nodded.

"You know him," she agreed. "All the same, he's right, it is unacceptable. You all are heroes and you will _not _be allowed to go hungry," she, smart woman that she was, sided with Anakin.

"There isn't that much food here either," Luke pointed out. Anakin gave a terse shrug. "Then I'll go filch some from the kitchens," he planned. The other Jedi in the room frowned and shared a glance. "Ani, I don't think…"Nava began but Anakin waved the worry away.

"Don't worry," he said grimly. "The Sith know who has the more power in this palace now. And I hope they realize I'm suitably angered enough that a fight wouldn't go over well for them. After all, a good majority of them are just cruel, not suicidal," he reminded them. "You'd be surprised," Intrepid mumbled, a sudden shadow flitting through her pupils.

Anakin crossed his arms obstinately. There was a silence for one second, two seconds, three seconds… "Fine, since you're so determined, I'll take him," Obi-wan said at last, chuckling softly as if he could see Anakin's tenacious expression, virtually unchanged from the days of his youth. Anakin looked down at his friend, surprised that Obi-wan knew where anything was, and then remembered that this was, despite the change in name and wrecked visage, the Jedi Temple. Obi-wan had grown up among these halls. Force knew he probably had memorized them before Bruck blinded him.

Anakin once would have insisted that he could make it on his own, but after so long he never wanted to leave Obi-wan's side again. It was perfectly fine with him if they accompanied each other.

"See? We'll bring back some _real_ food. You all just hang tight," he assured them. With that he stepped forward and at Obi-wan's nod used the force to open the door and power down the ray shield with the pass code Cody had confidently let him see.

_Why would Sidious allow me to have the Force?_ Anakin wondered uneasily as Obi-wan led the way through the halls, stalking and listening for any noise intently, as if he were afraid of coming across anyone.

Anakin walked behind him leisurely, letting Obi-wan lead the way as he watched him affectionately. Force, he was walking behind Obi-wan again, right in the position he had back in the good old days when he had been Obi-wan's apprentice, and even after as a Knight.

The times when there had been no Sidious, no Empire, no Sith, no Rebellion, just him and his master. Anakin had to bite his bottom lip to hold back a childish giggle of pure delight.

Suddenly, Obi-wan stopped just before a corner and scowled a bit nervously. "Anakin?" he asked, reaching out a hand. Anakin grabbed it tightly and Obi-wan relaxed. "Good. I'm sorry, I suppose I'm still in shock," he said as they once more commenced down the halls, but this time Obi-wan's grip on his hand did not falter.

"Me too," Anakin admitted, with a grin. "I thought about you every day," he confided, wondering how Obi-wan knew what direction was left and right so easily, and how he knew where walls and things were. _Come to think of it, I have yet to see any of them use the force,_ Anakin considered, wondering if Sidious had placed force inhibitors on the Order. That would explain why the Light was so muffled.

Obi-wan chuckled softly. "Oh? And here I thought you'd learned your lessons about attachment and possession and sentimentality and…" Anakin interrupted him with by lovingly shoving his shoulder.

"I even missed your lectures," he noted, shaking his head a bit. For seven years he had yearned to hear a lecture from Obi-wan's stone shrine, had hoped to at least hear something, even if it be abatement. Master Obi-wan feigned shock and enormous disbelief.

"You _missed_ the lectures you so dutifully tuned out? Force, now I know you're lying," he gasped playfully. Anakin poked out his bottom lip. "That's not fair, Obi-wan," he protested. "I didn't _always_ tune out," in fact he had only tuned out about ninety-nine point three percent of the time.

Obi-wan chuckled softly, the sound filling Anakin with warmth. "That's alright," he said. "I missed your flying," Anakin highly doubted this, but knowing Obi-wan it could not be so far-fetched a lie. He appreciated it anyway . "Ah, master," he said, stirred to more sentimentality as he grabbed Obi-wan in a bone-shattering hug from behind.

"I knew you cared," he said into Obi-wan's ear. "Oof! Put me down, Anakin," Obi-wan protested in a strangled laugh as he wriggled in Anakin's grip. "But I want to keep you," Anakin once more objected, nuzzling into the back of Obi-wan's shoulder.

The Jedi laughed softly. "Yes, you definitely never listened to my lectures on_ possessiveness_…Anakin, food, kitchens, remember? We'll never get there if you keep hugging me," he pointed out reasonably, sounding very amused.

"I could carry you," Anakin suggested with an evil grin. "Over my dead body you could carry me. I'm blind, not crippled. Besides, we can't let anyone see us, brothen. You forget that I'm considered a slave here," Obi-wan said. Anakin growled, Obi-wan was not any person's _property._ The very idea made him sick.

Nevertheless, he was right. Here, they had roles to play, and Anakin's role was not as Obi-wan's best friend, though that was the truth of the matter. He hated pretending to be something he wasn't.

"Fine," he grumbled, setting Obi-wan back down on his feet. "I'll hug you again later. A lot. Lead the way," he griped. Obi-wan shook his head, amused by Anakin's displeasure as always. "Don't worry. Pretty soon you'll_ like_ being able to tell me what to do," he comforted.

Anakin snorted; not likely. "Master, if I thought you had a submissive bone in your body I'd be a fool. Besides, I already tried telling you what to do when I was Knighted…As I recall, you laughed at me for it," he recalled. "You were trying so hard," Obi-wan snickered, remembering.

"I couldn't bear to keep a straight face," Anakin chuckled lightly, finally allowing those cherished memories to come again. He had been holding them back a long time now, afraid to think about his friends.

Afraid that if he did he would fall under the waters of grief, some part of him always wondering why he could never release their memories into the force. Come to think of it; there was one thing he had regretted most about the past seven years, out of everything, one thing he had feverishly wished he had said before…

"Hey, master?" he asked, brow creasing as he realized he had never told Obi-wan this before, not aloud and not officially. He was sure his master just sort of _knew _but seven long years of thinking them dead had left an impression a mile wide on Anakin.

He never wanted them to die not knowing for _sure._ "Hmm?" Obi-wan peered around the last corner, cocked his head to pick up any sound, then nodded and proceeded forward into the kitchens. "I love you," his friend did not find it so shocking as Anakin had thought he would.

In fact, Obi-wan only squeezed his hand, as if these sort of comments were an everyday occurrence. "Oh," he mumbled absently. "I love you too, little brother. Grab a bag and stuff it, we might be able to smuggle some of this down to the others in the slaves quarters…" so it had been proclaimed.

* * *

Okay, so I have good news and bad news, and the bad news is why there are three chapters instead of two today. Good news: I'm going to _Europe_! Land of culture and history and I am so excited! So, that's my good news. Bad news for you guys: I'll be there for twenty-one days with no wifi connection, so I won't be able to post until I get home. Don't worry though, take the time to get used to not seeing me because I suspect you guys will be sick of this story by the end. I just reached page 977 today, so... Yeah. Just enjoy the respite, everyone. Miss you tons!

~QueenYoda


	15. Mama

~Ventress's POV~

The kid snored. Loudly. Or perhaps that was just the after affects of Dex's greasy cooking. Ventress really did not know. And that was what bothered her, not knowing. After the visit with Ackbar, still grumbling and glaring at the kid as if she were Sidious in disguise or something, they had taken their leave and ended up at Dex's.

Ventress had not been a little surprised that the giant amphibian had known Kenobi, or his master or Skywalker either. She had been less surprised when she heard from Ackbar that Dex's vast knowledge of the rest of the galaxy, and his vast number of contacts variable close to the Sith made him an excellent well for conversation.

What_ had_ surprised her was how well Dex and the kid got along. It probably shouldn't have, after all the kid was curious, too much so at times, and Dexster Jettster had been everywhere. No wonder she had been transfixed with that giant toad, eyes wide as he regaled her with mysteries and other worlds, plying them with his greasy food.

Ventress had pretended to be irritably uninterested the entire way, but something about the way Dex had winked at her as they exited made Ventress think he knew she had been listening anyway. It had been a long time since anyone had told her stories.

Or winked at her, for that matter. And she had never had someone yank on her arm as they walked out of the diner and cry sleepily _"You know, Saji, I really liked him, and the stories. I want to go to those places some day," _and Ventress had only snatched her hand out of the grip.

Then grumbled that the universe was a dangerous and unpredictable place, full of horrible, vicious people. She'd do better to stay in one place and try to make a go there.

The kid had only laughed. It was the first laugh Ventress had heard out of her before the girl had nearly collapsed into a deep slumber.

_I wonder if Dex drugged her blasted stuff,_ Ventress thought critically, remembering how she had been forced to carry the girl on her back the rest of the way. She had not known someone that was basically all bones could weigh so much, and be so warm against her back.

Staring at the kid from across the room, however, Ventress was struck by how much Mara did not look like she belonged on the dirty and ragged cot that Ventress had managed to filch from downstairs. Her tiny cubicle of an apartment wasn't the _best_ place to live, but it sure wasn't the slums.

Asajj knew that she could have had better, had she wanted, but there was something about the dingy look of the apartments that had appealed to her, that had seemed to say _'hey, this place is totally for you!'_

But what was totally for her obviously wasn't totally for kids. Mara's fire orange hair spread out around her head like a halo, thin and delicate face relaxed into a peaceful dream, and she was twisted into the blanket heaps as if she had tried to wrestle with them.

Asajj really could not tell what sort of position she was in, maybe on her side, or her back, or…Something. All the same, her cloak had been thrown casually into a corner with Asajj's, leaving Ventress to speculate whether they could use a bit of a washing up.

That was another new thing; she had never felt the need to _wash _anything before. She had washed, of course, when the smell of her clothes got too bad or she had just plain had nothing else to do. She wasn't a _savage._ But she had never thought about it, never thought that her stuff needed washing or her apartment needed straightening or a new apartment all together.

When it was just for her, it was easy to let it go to waste, let it stay how it was, but when it was for others… But she didn't care about the kid. She only knew that if Sidious got his hands on her, she would make the prime new weapon of the year. Mara was strong in the force. Stronger, even, than Ventress was and she knew Dooku had been.

She did not plan on letting him get another edge on the galaxy if she could do anything about it. All the same, she wasn't a _mother_, nor did she have any motherly instincts about her. How in the galaxy was she going to raise a kid? Ventress was a warrior, a spy, a bounty hunter for force sakes! She didn't know how to be anything else, and she wasn't entirely sure she _wanted_ to be anything else.

Where was the girl's mother anyway? Tarkin was her father, that much was obvious, and from what she had deduced from both Mara's expressions and Ackbar's snorts, he had not been the most _attentive_ father either. He had agreed to let Sidious train his daughter after all. What sort of father did that? Ky would _never _have…

Ventress turned from those thoughts. Mara looked nothing like Tarkin, sleeping on the cot across from Ventress's meditation mats; she looked the exact opposite. Her tough exterior had fallen away to reveal the angelic face of peace underneath.

What had been happening so forth in her life that she did not wear that face all the time? And why in the great name of the force did Ventress care? It wasn't her problem or her past…

Though, some part of her had heard her own pain in Mara's voce when she had admitted she'd run away. She saw her own anger in those eyes, her own hatred of injustice. Asajj would admit, only in the darkest spaces of her heart, that she saw herself in Mara's eyes.

She groaned and put her face in her hands. "_Get used to it, fish-man. We're partners now, Saji and I,"_partners. She had called them that what she thought, that just because Ventress had saved her from the deep down criminal slums that somehow they were connected?

_Yes,_ the force whispered and Ventress wanted to hit something. Herself more precisely, but she had felt the urge to do that so many times that she had already broken all of her mirrors. How do I get myself into these things? I don't know anything about kids, she thought, glaring at the kid as if her peace were disturbing Asajj, which, it sort of was.

After all, Asajj found she could not meditate with Mara around. It just…Bugged her. Like she should always watch the girl or something, for fear she would vanish. Or something sudden would happen and she'd see another person die in her arms. After Ky, Asajj had decided she'd seen enough of death._ Are you laughing at me right now? _She demanded of his spirit, knowing that wherever he was, he was probably enjoying the sight of her glaring at a small child in sleep, trying to decide what to do with her.

Ky had found endless amusement in her. He had found endless amusement in anything, really. Like that old troll, Yoda. Hadn't Mara said she saw him once? Where? _That's another thing,_ Ventress added with a jolt. _The kid has not been trained very much in the force yet. _

Of course she would not have been. Sidious had reserved her for himself, but still, it was a bit shocking that lifting things, increasing speed and hitting people was the most the kid knew how to do by way of her gift.

Those were tricks that could be self-taught, the simplest of little accomplishments. Hadn't anyone ever sat down and told her what the force was, how she could use it, how it worked?

Had _anyone _ever spoken a helpful word to this girl? Suddenly angry at those that dared_ neglect_ a little girl, who wouldn't even had given her the simple _run down_ of the blasted force, Ventress stood and paced.

_Why would you exclude just one person? I mean, what's so wrong with her that she can't even have two seconds of a person's damned time? Do I mean that little to them that I don't even exist? How dare they do that to me?_

And how had her thoughts gone to outrage on Mara's behalf to outrage on her own, all of the old anger building until she had halted. This was not about her, and yet it was. Mara's life was not her life, and yet it was.

She saw much of herself in those emerald orbs; that was the point. _That_ was why she had saved Mara Jade. _That _was why she toted her around everywhere and wanted to suddenly do things she had not cared whatsoever about before. _That_ was why Ventress walked over, slowly, hesitantly, and knelt beside the girl, lying a hand on her shoulder.

Mara did not wake, but from somewhere in the mass of blankets, her hand shot out and managed to grab Asajj's, just like she had done the evening before. She continued to tug lightly on her wrist until Asajj relented and allowed her to press the cold appendage to her warm body, as if it were a lifeline, unconsciously holding it there as if she intended to tug Ventress into her heart and keep her there, and as if she expected Asajj to do the same.

Ventress huffed. She would be damned before she allowed herself to be manipulated by not only just a little girl, but a sleeping little girl at that… "Mama," Mara decided in a whisper before her force signature smoothed out into a completely blissful sleep.

"I'm not…" Ventress began, but sighed when she realized it was of no use. The Kid wasn't letting her go, and she wasn't getting any sleep that night what with her hand held hostage. Fine.

Crossing her legs beneath her, Asajj did not take her hand from Mara's grip, but settled the other lightly on her knees and for the first time since the kid had come into her life; she meditated.

* * *

I'm baaaccckkk! Just got home from Europe late last night. I can't even begin to describe to you guys just how much I have missed writing. So not ready for school to start up again... Anyway, next chapter is one of my favorites in this entire series. So excited to be back.

~QueenYoda


	16. no pain, no gain

~Anakin's POV~

"Sidious has all the Rebels stored down in the prison cells. Bail, Mon, the volunteers…They're alive, forced to crush piles of rock every day, whether Sidious decides to make it rain, sleek, or snow. If any of those he has enslaved tries to escape, if we cause trouble or disobey, they all die," Obi-wan explained hours later, at Anakin's side.

Having forgotten about their plans to discuss what they were going to do, heedless and euphoric with their long awaited gathering, the elated family had stayed up another few hours talking, feasting and laughing together.

Until finally, as the twins were beginning to nod off, with smiles at one another to signal that the significance was not lost on any of them, Anakin and Ahsoka had dragged the beds from the two rooms together and, combined with the couch, had created a giant berth, where eventually they all collapsed in collectively.

Now, hours after everyone had fallen asleep, Anakin and Obi-wan laid awake, the two insomniacs, in the middle of the gently slumbering family. To Anakin's back, Luke and Leia had fallen into a deep and curled sleep amidst the mess of blankets that was Ahsoka, Intrepid and Lux, the five of them coiled around one another like the children they still were.

On the other side of Obi-wan, Nava and Padme had fallen asleep side by side, Padme's head pillowed on Nava's shoulder, and one long brown arm hugging Padme tightly against her.

Outside of the walls, Anakin could hear the sounds of speeders flashing by, and imagined them just inches away from crashing into the room, realizing that they were_ this_ close to freeing them all. It was not necessarily a happy thought.

Anakin, who, rather feeling like he was staying up late at a friend's sleep over, scowled angrily as he faced Obi-wan, gently twiddling with his friend's hand. "Has anyone tried to escape yet?" Anakin asked, in a whisper so as not to wake the others.

"Yes. About five years ago. The council planned it, one of the Rebel leaders escaped through means of a secret tunnel he found in the cells…Bail, Lux, Mon and Chu-Chi distracted the guards while he got out. He was supposed to come back and help others escape individually, so that over time perhaps at least _half _could get away," Obi-wan shook his head.

"We've not seen him since, so either he was captured, killed or just never came back," he contemplated. Anakin snorted. "If he was caught or killed, Sidious would have made a big deal about it, he has too much fun gloating nowadays. He wouldn't shut up about how he had Jedi slaves," he said, his own opinion clear of what had happened to the man.

Still, it wasn't as if Anakin could very much hate him for it. He knew that in slavery, any chance at escape one got, they took, and coming back was a testament to a type of courage and selflessness that most people could never hope to acquire.

Obi-wan gave an imperturbable shrug. "True. All the same, he's gone, and his departure made for a very…Dismal day. Sidious had thirty of the volunteers whipped to death to express his displeasure. We haven't tried again," Obi-wan said bitterly, face hardening by the memory of blood and torture. Anakin's teeth clenched.

"He can't do that! Why didn't you all do anything?" He hissed, this being more of a rhetorical question than anything. He had been a slave once too. He knew that had they tried to do anything more people would have been hurt, more lives destroyed.

Obi-wan cocked a characteristic brow at his outrage anyway. "And risk displeasuring him again? That would be foolhardy, Anakin. It would only cost further lives. Besides, without the Force we don't stand a chance. It's why none of the Jedi have been able to escape yet either," so they _were_ blocked from using the force. Anakin pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"I thought it was strange how it seemed you all never used the Force for anything. And there_ is_ Light, hiding beneath the Dark Side. I realized it's the equivalent of all your Force signatures, but it's so muffled that you all just seem like a big dot, instead of individuals. Did he implant Force inhibitors into you?" Anakin asked.

He remembered that most inhibitors were remote controlled. If he could get that remote, and turn them off, then maybe the Jedi could…But he was sure he wasn't the only one to have thought of that.

Obi-wan's face turned stony, and regret lashed an icy wind in the Force. Anakin shuddered. "What?" he asked, having a very bad feeling about this. "Do you remember Torah's midi-chlorian disruptor machine?" Obi-wan asked softly. At the name of that witch, Anakin narrowed his eyes, thinking.

"The box thing that Bruck used on us in the cargo bay before he died?" He asked. "Before I killed him, you mean," came the acid answer. Anakin squeezed his hand; Obi-wan had never stopped hating himself for that, though Anakin did not know _why_.

Maybe it was an Kenobi thing to hate the loss of lives for whatever reason, even if Bruck had deserved it, twice over. Obi-wan sighed and nodded.

"Yes. That thing," he rectified. Anakin nodded; shivering as he remembered feeling as if the skin were being _ripped_ off his body, the blinding agony that had left him too stunned even to cry out.

Then it had…Had basically ripped the Force from his veins, made it so that he could no sooner feel it than touch it. As if he had never been born Force sensitive at all. Usually Force inhibitors just made it so that one could not touch it, Torah's machine had made it so that you couldn't even _feel _it.

"Yeah, I remember. Cody shot it and it exploded, right?" he asked, wondering what the old memories had anything to do with the current situation. "Yes,that one exploded, and it was the _only _completeone so far as we know…But in Bruck's station, the computer data bases…Torah had put in directions on how to make more," Anakin gasped lightly, paling as horror overwhelmed him.

_What have I done?_

"No," he gasped. Obi-wan grabbed his shoulder. "Anakin, it isn't your fault…" he began comfortingly but Anakin shook off the touch, struggling no t to wake the others with his sudden guilt.

Bruck's base, where he had held Obi-wan captive and tortured for an entire month still haunted Anakin's nightmares. Standard protocol demanded that he would have searched or deleted all the files on the computers…

"Force, master, I was so desperate to get you out…So impatient to make sure you were alright I didn't even bother going through the blasted computers! I just assumed the clones would destroy them, but without orders, why would they? How could I have been so_ stupid_?"

He hissed, rolling unto his back to cover his burning eyes, he_ dearly_ wanted to hit something. Himself, more preferably. Guilt bounced around inside of him like a plastic ball, pounding his heart. He felt like his soul were being torn out.

"You were worried, Anakin. Of course you wouldn't think to stop and see what idiocy Bruck had on the computers…" Obi-wan said again, trying no doubt to make Anakin feel better; to give him excuses to hide behind.

But there_ were_ no acceptable excuses, not when the damage he had wrought was lying right next to him, not when it had affected people he loved. It was ironic, and so very cruel that a mistake he had made so many times in the past, had justified with the excuses Obi-wan was trying to give him now should come back, and teach him the hard way. He had always been a slow learner.  
"No," he halted Obi-wan's quick diagnosis of forgiveness. "No. I allowed emotion to cloud my judgment, I_ knew_ better, Obi-wan. I knew that I should have checked the computers, Force; I went through the base to get the vapin' machine in the first place, didn't I? But I was in such a hurry, not really paying attention, not taking my time or thinking…Now you all are paying the price. I'm sorry," It was a thin, worthless apology. Maybe things would have been different, perhaps Anakin could have changed _so_ many things…

If he hadn't let emotion cloud his judgment.

It was enough to cause hot tears to run down his face in shame. Obi-wan, as was his usual trademark, only reached out and gently touched Anakin's cheek. "It's alright, Anakin. It was a mistake any one would have made," he comforted gently.

But Anakin knew the right answer to that, too. "But I'm not just anybody, Obi-wan. I'm a Jedi. I _know _better," he whispered, unwilling to look the products of his mistake, of his ignorance, in the face.

Force, he would never forgive himself. That halted Obi-wan, who took his hand away hesitantly, thinking. After a moment, Anakin feared that Obi-wan would find anger in him after all. _It's only what I deserve_, he lamented.

"Forget it," his master finally commanded; his soft voice holding no room for argument. "It' over, Anakin. You made a mistake, but that was in the past. This is the present. And I won't hear another word about it, understood?" Why had Anakin suspected Obi-wan would ever blame him again? Obi-wan was…Obi-wan. Despite however else the years might have changed him, he did not have a heart that broked reproach.

For a slave, Anakin knew how strong one had to be to reach that level of compassion. He took away his arm to turn his head and give Obi-wan a shaky smile. "Have I mentioned what a hopeless wreck I was without you the past seven years?" he inquired.

Obi-wan chuckled softly. "It was implied," he teased. Anakin couldn't help but snicker. Obi-wan's cheerfulness was contagious. And he had said he hadn't wanted to hear another word about it; far be it from Anakin to get into an argument with the man he had missed seven years. Still, his heart thumped wildly in his chest, seeming heavier with hefty guilt. He_ had_ to find a way to fix this, to make it up to them. He must.

"Speaking of which, what did the others say when they saw your eyes?" He asked impishly. Obi-wan gave a half shrug, and, to Anakin's astonishment, suddenly reached out to gently take his mechanical hand and run fingers over it, deftly tweaking and examining things by way of touch.

For a man that Anakin had secretly reasoned when he was younger had Haphephobia,_ this_ was new. Anakin supposed that without the benefits of sight or the Force, Obi-wan had to rely on touch and sound to know when a person was there.

"Well, Master Yoda, as to be expected, was hardly surprised. He said he had suspected all along, of course, but never been sure. The others doted on me a few days, awestruck that not only I had been able to keep my blindness a secret for so long, but that I had been able to do all of my regular duties perfectly well with it," Anakin's chest swelled.

"Perfectly well? You did your duties _better _than any of us could have managed! Yoda was unsurprised because he realizes the depth of your _awesomeness_ is yet unattained," he went on happily, pleased when his comment got a self-conscious blush out of the usually composed Master Obi-wan.

"Oh, please, Anakin. Master Yoda was unsurprised because he's _Yoda_," he mumbled, ducking away. Anakin only grinned at his humble friend. "Whatever you say, master," he chuckled.

At the old title, Obi-wan sobered. "I never quite realized how much I took my Force sensitivity for granted," he admitted quietly. "The delicate awareness, the foresight…When I lost them, Anakin, I didn't really know what to do. None of us knew what to do without that extra power. We've never used it frivolously, of course, but…It's hard, almost as hard as when they took our sabers away from us," he sighed.

Anakin nodded slowly. He couldn't imagine life without the force. It was a part of him; it was always with him, a friend since birth, as integral as his arms and legs. It was _who he was_. Nor could he imagine living seven years without his lightsaber. He was used to short periods of it me, of course, but that weapon was his life.

"I don't know how people survive without the force their entire lives. Other bodily senses heighten of course. I've managed a new level of taste, hearing, touch and smell that I didn't even realize I had, but…" Obi-wan hesitated, as if considering whether to share this information with Anakin.

"Now, I understand. Why when things get demanding, people turn from the right. When you have the Force, when you_ feel_ the power of the Light Side, when it _speaks_ to you and runs through you like air, it's easy to know that greed and hatred just can't prevail over something so…Amazing. Its easy to remember that there will be peace in the end whatever end that may be," Anakin's heart clenched with pity.

"But they didn't know that, they can't feel what we felt. Now we can't feel it anymore either. And, at times, holding unto that belief is harder than anything else the Sith could throw at us," Anakin nodded, absorbing this, hating himself for not going through Bruck's data bases.

"The chains are the easy part, it's what goes on in the mind that's hard," he whispered. Obi-wan nodded. "Yes. That about covers it. We survive, though, as we have always survived," he said, staring down at Anakin's fingers between his own as if he could identify the parts. Anakin would not have been so surprised if he could.

"How _have_ any of you survived?" Anakin demanded. "I remember the pain that witches invention conjured when it stripped the force. It was agonizing," the true question hidden in the anxiety of his tones, _do you live with such agony every second of every day? Have I doomed you to seven years of torture? _Obi-wan understood his unspoken reference and squeezed his arm in acknowledgement. He had always been the more perceptive of the two.

"In the first few days," Obi-wan said, slowly, his expression aggrieved, as if remembering brought back the pain. "It _was_ agonizing. Almost everyone succumbed to raging fevers; we were immobile for days, unable to eat, in too much pain to do anything but breathe…" Obi-wan inhaled a deep breath, held it, and then released.

"Some died from pain, others the shock of it, some went insane without the Force. Thankfully, none of the Sith came to torment us. We still haven't figured out why they aren't influenced by the machine's effects yet, or how you and the twins aren't…"

Anakin wondered the same thing. He recalled that Torah's machine had sent out a signal that imbued_ all_ within its lecherous grasp, whether Light or Dark. _Sidious must have modified it, if I can just figure out how he did that, maybe I can reverse the effects,_ Anakin planned.

"All the same, after a few days, our bodies adjusted to the pain and became numb so that we couldn't feel _anything_. We managed to pull ourselves together, we got back up and Sidious put us to work," of course he had. It would not matter that the Jedi had nearly died from the effects of having their force power stripped. Sidious would have his revenge regardless.

Anakin tried to bite back the urge to summon images of just _how_ he was going to kill the sorry Sith scum to mind. Anakin shook his head. "I saw the mines. Sidious, he…Took me down there," he shook his head slowly.

"Force, master, it was awful; I can't imagine…I'll lay it on the tenacity of the Order. You don't work down in that squazza, do you?" He asked worriedly.

Obi-wan, to his relief, shook his head. "No. I was judged too unfit to work down there because of my blindness. But Mace works down there, and Nava, and most of The Awaji. Its grueling work," he told him.

Anakin had already guessed as much. "The Awaji? Who are they?" he demanded, having never heard the name before, Obi-wan's expression melted into one of surprise.

"Anakin, you didn't think that there are only members of the Order here, did you? Sidious has collected every force sensitive in the galaxy, including the agri-corps and almost every group besides The Order…"

"There are _other_ force sensitive groups besides the Order?" Anakin gasped. When had this happened? "I thought the Jedi collected all of them!" he said, brow crinkling. Wasn't that what the holocrons were for? To find and collect every Force born child in the galaxy documented?

"Of course not, Anakin. If we collected_ everyone_, the Order would be unable to support them all. The Jedi are the largest establishment, of course, but even the Nightsisters were a Force feeling group, one of the darker ones perhaps…" he trailed off, as if thinking, but shook his head and continued.

"Nevertheless, there were Force sensitive organizations around the galaxy, hundreds in fact. The sizeable ones of the Light the Order kept an eye on; like The Cousins and the Awaji. The Cousins were merely Jedi who did not agree to aligning themselves with the Senate, and did not believe in violence for any reason at all. The Awaji are…Dissimilar," Anakin, Whose opinion of the Cousins was varying, had a bad feeling about this dissimilar society.

"They were a warrior's society, each youngling trained in the art of combat. They never left their planet, far past Republic boundaries, and they never used their training against anyone. In fact the Awaji are some of the gentlest creatures this universe has, but Force knows a _youngling_ could probably snap both our necks in under two seconds and then think nothing of it afterwards," Anakin decided the Awaji were his sort of people.

"And they're all here?" he asked. Obi-wan nodded. "All of them slaves to Sidious, except for the lesser ones that practiced dark alchemy. He took them under his wing. It may have been the Order he was fighting, but he has decided to punish _every _Force user. Including, the…The children," Obi-wan's voice had cracked at the word children. Anakin sat up and turned lightly, straining not to make too much movement.

"Children?" he whispered, wondering whether he really wanted to know or not. Obi-wan nodded, and the force around him spiked with not yet healed scars full of sorrow, grief…And pain. It seemed he was doomed to bear it all for the sake of the galaxy. Anakin wished it were not so.

"Yes. Every child over the age of five, under the age of eighteen has been commissioned under the tutelage of the Sith. The ones younger than that were killed, the older enslaved. They are being taught the ways of the Dark Side…" Anakin could not restrain his gasp.

"The older Padawan's have been trying to keep the younger strong, and sometimes we manage to get a hold of one and at least give them some hope, let them know _someone _cares for and believes in them, but…They're just children, Anakin. Just children," he whispered brokenly.

Anakin could sense how desperately Obi-wan was trying to hold back tears, Nava's earlier words echoed back in his head. "_Still, I'm glad you've come…He needs you, Ani," _Needed him for what? Before he could ask though, Obi-wan continued quickly, as if he had sensed Anakin was about to ask something he did not want to tell.

"I work every occupation around the Palace, mostly. Master Yoda is Sidious's personal _pet_ and clown, he performs tricks to amuse the master," Obi-wan held his voice in control, but not even the great Negotiator could hide the fury from his tone.

Anakin felt it in his own heart. One of the most powerful Force users in history, in the galaxy, was now Sidious's little _court jester_?

"Ahsoka and Intrepid, most of the young pretty Knights, really, are given the task of galley slaves and catering to the Sith men. Ahsoka managed to ally herself with Starkiller, he genuinely cares for her well-being I think. He protects her and Intrepid from any rough handling. But the other young women…Are not so fortunate," Anakin gulped at the quavering control in Obi-wan's voice.

"Nava…?" he couldn't finish. "She won't talk about it," was the terse answer, along with a shuddering breath. Anakin gulped, trying to imagine if it were Padme here.

He remembered the constant terror he had faced as a child, knowing that at any time, any day, Watto could loan Shmi out to an off-worlder or even other slave driver who took a fancy to her. He felt the same terror course through him.

That was his _mother_, Nava was the only figure he had in the department, and she was a good woman. She was better than Anakin could ever hope to be. She did not deserve such a fate.

"I'll _die _before anyone touches her," he ground out. Obi-wan shushed him. "Don't say such things," he scolded firmly, outwardly calm for the flash of alarm Anakin had felt in the force. "You know perfectly well how jinxed such promises are. Speaking of which, why did Sidious take you down to the mines anyway?" He asked.

"Because he's a_ barve_," was Anakin's immediate response, spoken harshly. Obi-wan snorted. "Tell me something I don't know," he agreed readily, causing Anakin to give a small laugh.

Then, the memory of the Jedi hunched and whipped in the mines flashing before his eyes, recounting the pure animal desperation to free them, the rage that had built in his chest until he had thought he might burst with it, made him clench his fists. Obi-wan noticed the subtle movement, and looked up worriedly.

Anakin gulped. "Master…I've agreed to become Sidious's apprentice," he whispered. Obi-wan jumped as if Anakin had burned him, eyes widening. "You _what_?" he hissed, shocked.

"I had no choice," Anakin pleaded for understanding. "I didn't want too, Force Obi-wan you know I'd never willingly pledge myself to that monster but for the direst circumstances!…He threatened to kill you. Everyone, the entire Order, and the twins, Padme…" Anakin hastily explained; his voice was hoarse with frustration.

"That's why he enslaved you all instead of killing you. He knew, somehow, that one day I'd be back, whether by destiny or my own choice. He's been saving this room, and the order, for my arrival," he said.

Obi-wan stared at him another moment, flabbergasted, before his face softened with empathy. "Of course," he mumbled, the gears in his mind clicking into place.

"It's so obvious…We thought he kept us to gloat, but no…" he trailed off. Anakin bit his bottom lip. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled, not exactly sure why or what for but knowing that he was. He was sorrier than he had ever been in his life. "It isn't your fault," Obi-wan assured him once again.

"Sidious is clever…But arrogant. We may be able to turn this in our favor," he muttered thoughtfully, hand coming up to stroke his beard. Anakin wondered how he knew it was right there. He perked up, glancing around as if he expected someone to sneak into the door to listen.

"How?" He whispered. "Well, firstly, I don't suppose you intend to actually _turn _to the Dark Side, do you? You'll only be acting?" Obi-wan asked, a tad anxiously. Anakin squeezed his hand.

"Sure, I'll turn when Hoth's icecaps melt, maybe," he promised. Obi-wan seemed to find this amusing. He chuckled lightly. "Good to know. Well, you will be the perfect informant for the Rebels. You'll be right there at Sidious's side. You might find out where the machines that inhibit the force are, you might find a way to escape, or, better yet," if Obi-wan's eyes could gleam, Anakin imagined they would have. "How to stop the Death Star," Obi-wan concluded. Anakin felt a smile quirking at his lips.

"True…But how will we get the information to the Rebels?" He asked. Obi-wan cocked a brow. "Anakin, you don't suppose we've just sitting here like good slaves, do you? Most of the tidings the Rebels get about the Sith is_ from_ the Jedi and Rebel prisoners," he pointed out.

Anakin was astounded. "What?" He demanded. "That's impossible! You've been spies for the Rebels this _entire _time?" he demanded. Why hadn't he known that? He had been the head of spy and news retrieval. Had anyone told him where the information came from, he might have saved the Jedi years earlier!

Why hadn't anyone told him?

"Well, not the entire time," Obi-wan admitted. "Only for about six years. Why?" he asked. Anakin could not believe this. "Master, I'm the one who is in charge of the spy intelligence units. Padme has been the kriffing Chancellor of the Rebel Alliance for seven years. I should think _someone_ would have told us _eventually _that all the information we were getting was coming from Jedi!" he hissed, infuriated.

"_You_ were in charge of spy intelligence?" Obi-wan echoed, sounding impressed. "Hmm. Well, Anakin, I doubt anyone that you associate with knows either. Only the lowest of the spies know that we're alive. If rumor got out that we were here, it would cause complications…Sidious would probably just kill us to stave off public protests," Anakin could understand that.

"But why didn't anyone tell _me_? I thought I was the last Jedi for seven blasted years, I could have gotten you all out years ago!" he growled. Obi-wan laid a soothing hand on his arm.

"It was the will of the Force," he told him solemnly. "You can't know everything, Anakin. You were brought here now for a reason. Probably because Sidious's ego is at an all time high, which means he'll be complacent and eager to brag and talk," Anakin was still mad.

Huffing, he shook his head. "As soon as we're out of here, I'm going to change some things about the spy system. I will not be kept in the dark about such things. _I will not_; and I don't care what complications it would have caused for me to arrive with a full fleet and blown this _blasted_ palace to smithereens," he growled.

Obi-wan only chuckled, expression affectionate. "I've missed you, my friend," he said shaking his head as if Anakin had said something silly. Anakin couldn't help but smile.

"Don't change the subject brothem. I'm still mad, but you're right, with the stuff I could figure out here, we could end this war permanently, we can _stop_ the Sith," he whispered, excitement and an eagerness to do anything to finish this fight temporarily easing the guilt.

"Not so fast, it will take patience, and team work," Obi-wan cautioned. "And a great deal of strength. He's going to train you to use the _Dark Side_, Anakin. You must know he might make you do anything…_Anything_," and that covered a large area of topics.

_He might make me hurt my family to save them,_ he dreaded. Anakin looked at Obi-wan, at a face he knew might be the one to bear the brunt of Sidious's malice, who probably already had. Anakin wanted to do anything to protect him, he wished he could take the Jedi far, far away while he fought this fight…But he couldn't.

If Anakin disobeyed, it would not be himself to feel Sidious's rage, but the Jedi. Obi-wan was right…Could Anakin handle that? A normal Jedi, one not so prone to emotion might, someone with control… Yet there was no one else. He was the Chosen One. This was_ his_ destiny. Anakin inhaled deeply, peering into the very personification of strength in his life.

"Do you remember the night of Ahsoka's birthday, when she had been captured by Starkiller all those years ago? When I promised you that someday, when the war was over, you wouldn't have to worry anymore because there'd be nothing to worry about?" he asked softly.

Obi-wan nodded. "You promised it again during_ my_ birthday, and a number of times before and after that," he recounted.

"Yeah," Anakin whispered. Gently, he took his token to Obi-wan, a token of love and loyalty between his fingers. "I've promised you paradise. I promised you at least a second, a _moment _in time when you can actually be happy for once, instead of in pain. And I intend to keep my promise, Obi-wan. _That_ is what will give me the strength to keep control, to turn down whatever Sidious may offer me in return. A Jedi does not go back on his word, you taught me that, and you taught me well," he vowed, squeezing the arm of the man who meant the universe to him.

Anakin was surprised when Obi-wan turned his face away, obviously holding back tears at his oration. "Anakin," his voice cracked. "You spoil me," Anakin couldn't help but chuckle at the small blush that crept up Obi-wan's neck again, visible even in the dark.

Anakin reached forward, and delicately swiped away his friend's tears with his thumbs smiling sadly. It had been a long time since he had seen Obi-wan cry. Too long.

"Nah, I give you what you deserve. You've suffered so much pain, so much despair on my behalf…The least I can do is kick Sidious's haughty ass for you," he whispered tenderly.

Obi-wan smiled wryly. "Revenge is not the Jedi Way," he attempted to scold, without much heart, but Anakin snorted. "Admit it, master, you _want _me to beat him up. You're looking forward to it," he argued.

"That has no relevance at all to my point," Obi-wan replied mildly. "But when you _do _beat him…Remember to aim for the _neck_. Sith tend to come back if you only chop them in half," he counseled.

"That Sith spit isn't worthy to die on my blade. I'd rather just push him out a window, drop him in a rancor pit…Put him in a cave of Wampas…" Anakin considered.

Obi-wan laughed quietly. "Stop it…Force, Anakin, half of me thinks this is just a fanciful dream, that you'll be gone by morning," Obi-wan sighed suddenly. Anakin nodded. "I feel the same. I've dreamed of you all so many times, so many nights…I'm afraid to go to sleep for fear you won't be here when I wake up," he admitted. His eyes felt wet again.

"Force, Obi-wan, I've missed you too much…I made you a shrine, On Tatooine," he offered. Obi-wan gave him an odd look. "You what?" he echoed. "Made you a shrine," Anakin repeated. But Obi-wan's mind was on other points. "You've been living on _Tatooine_ for seven years?" he demanded.

Anakin chuckled. "Weird choice, I know. We lived with my step-family, the Lars. Remember I told you about them?" Obi-wan nodded. "Why? Where did you think we'd go?" he asked. Obi-wan gave a small half shrug.

"Honestly, I had no clue. Sometimes when the five of us would come together at night, we'd debate over what planet you four could be on, what you were doing, what the Twin's looked like, whether you were happy…" Anakin gulped. They had been content, never happy.

"We all hoped you would be, but honestly, we had no idea whether you four were even alive. Some Jedi thought your Escape Pod might have crashed on a nearby planet, or you'd been found by troopers dead in the deserts," Obi-wan shivered.

"I admit our imaginations ran away with us. When things got horrible, sometimes we'd just dredge up the worst case scenarios for no reason at all. I could never listen long," Anakin's bottom lip quivered.

"Me and Padme talked, at night when the twins were asleep, of how we thought you all had died. We…I mean we hoped desperately that maybe it had been quick. Sidious would just skewer you on his lightsaber or shoot you," Anakin gulped.

"But we knew it wasn't likely. We…We were so sure you'd been tortured to death. It's never stopped haunting us. After seeing you when Bruck got done with his deranged fun, I couldn't help but wonder what Sidious would do, I only hoped whatever it was, it hadn't lasted long," he swallowed past a lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry you had to worry like that," he managed past the tears. "I'm sorry you had to wonder that way," Obi-wan responded in turn. Anakin shook his head. "I…One day it bothered me, I guess, to know you all had sacrificed so much…And there wasn't anything to commemorate your memories. So I carved small gravestones out of rocks from the hills. I made individual one's for you all, and a big one for the order, with the code inscribed on it," he explained.

"It feels so long ago now, but force, master, it wasn't even four days ago I was talking to yours. I always went out to meditate near the stones every afternoon. They made me feel closer to all of you, somehow. I'd talk to yours when I needed guidance, or felt weak," he chuckled humorlessly.

"I would get angry when you never answered me. Qui-gon hasn't come to see me in seven years, so I kept waiting for you to show up. I remember Padme found me grumbling in the kitchen, and when she asked me what was wrong I said we had had a fight and weren't talking to each other," he snickered at the look of bewilderment that had come to Padme's face.

Obi-wan seemed amused as well. "I'm sorry to tell you this, Anakin, but rocks don't say much. I know I could never get Qui-gon to understand why the plant never answered him when he said good morning, but I thought you were more understanding…" he joked. Anakin playfully punched his shoulder. "Shut up!" he hissed, giggling.

"I missed you, okay? That rock was your replacement; it was a nice rock. Thinking on it, I talked to all of them. Owen always told me that I was crazy, and I think he supposed all Jedi did things like that," he snickered.

Obi-wan looked as if he wanted to either burst into laughter or roll his eyes. "Oh, wonderful, now we shall forever be known as the rock-whisperers. Good job Anakin," he drawled sarcastically.

"You're such a barve," Anakin said back, still giggling. "I should have made your shrine out of a pile of dung," he snickered. "The dung would not have answered you either, I'm sorry to inform you," Obi-wan reasoned. Anakin had to bite his bottom lip to keep in his laughter. "Knock it off, brother, you're gonna make me laugh and wake the others," he chastised.

"I don't see what's so funny about you replacing me with a _rock_, Anakin," Obi-wan replied, mouth quirking at the corners. "The rock was better company. It stayed silent," he replied.

"I thought you got mad at it for staying silent,"

"Silence is golden. At least it didn't try to make me laugh,"

"I'm not trying to make you _laugh,_ brothen. I'm trying to figure out why my replacement was a rock,"

"What's to figure out? The rock was understanding, handsome, _interesting,_ compliant…"

"Anakin?"

"What?"

"Did you _name _the rock?"

"Maybe."

"Ah, force, another Qui-gon…Don't tell me you drew a face on it,"

"It was better looking than you, don't worry,"

"And your friend the rock, what was his opinion of the fact that you kept talking to him?"

"He thought I was awesome, master. The rock appreciated me,"

"Ah…So it was a stupid rock,"

"Well, he wasn't very good at math…"

"He probably skipped his math classes too, in favor of the greater good of making friends in downtown Courascant…"

"You're still on that? I said it seven years ago,"

"And note how you haven't learned any more math since then,"

"I know how to count, that's all that matters,"

"It would matter more if you could count past ten,"

"Oh, yeah? Well, I see that squirrel on your face hasn't left you yet,"

"At least I don't talk to it,"

"Maybe not…But stroking it every five seconds is sort of weird too,"

"He needs incentive to stay there,"

"What would happen if he came off?"

"I might look like you,"

"So you're afraid of looking hot?"

"No, I'm afraid of looking like you. Your hair is uncivilized,"

"You can't even_ see_ my hair!"

"Its uncivilized anyway,"

Anakin, whose sides by now were aflame with the ache of holding in his laughter, his cheeks cramping from his wide smile released a slow breath, pupils burning with tears. By the tenseness in Obi-wan's shoulders he was holding back laughter too. Force, they were _way_ too old for this, they were acting like children. Anakin was almost forty years old after all, which meant Obi-wan was nearing fifty.

"Force…Force, I missed you," Anakin gasped, giggling silently, finally succumbing with a snort as he buried his face on Obi-wan's shoulder, his own shoulders shaking with giggles. "I missed you too… Stars, I haven't laughed in so _long_, Anakin. What'd you go and do this for?" Obi-wan snickered, his chest bouncing with soft snorts.

"Why is everything my fault? All I did was build a shrine, brother, I didn't know _this _would happen," Anakin responded voice muffled in the thin fabric of Obi-wan's shirt. He felt a strong arm wrap itself around him. He snuggled closer, feeling the encasement of warmth.

"Yes, well…I appreciate the gesture. No one has ever thought me important enough to build a shrine for," Obi-wan said after a moment of them laughing together, struggling not to wake the others with their mirth. "You've had statues erected in your honor, Obi-wan," Anakin pointed out.

"Half of those statues got my name wrong, Anakin. They were built out of idolization, not love. Yours means more to me," Anakin looked up, resting his head on Obi-wan's shoulder.

Wordlessly, he wrapped an arm around his waist, enjoying the closeness they had never shared before, the cloak of safety that enveloped him at the warmness radiating from Obi-wan's skin. "The fact that you kept that ratty bracelet means a lot to me, too," he answered. "This? I have yet to take it off in seven years," Anakin believed that.

"I'm going to get you something better," he promised fiercely, tightening his grip. "I'm going to get you everything you want some day, master, just wait and see if I don't," he swore.

"And if I don't want anything?" Anakin snorted, "Then I'll get you everything_ I_ want you to have. Freedom would be a good start, then a new temple, then a new Republic. Some things are going to have to change in the Order," he asserted, glancing at Padme and Nava.

Obi-wan nodded, lying his chin atop Anakin's head thoughtfully. "Perhaps a new code," he considered mildly. "Would the council even listen to us?" Anakin wondered.

"Yes," Obi-wan squeezed his arm. "You'll be surprised what the war and slavery have done to the Order, Anakin. The Council has been talking, subtly, about changing the Code since the Clone Wars. We knew somewhere we'd gone wrong, we just didn't know _where_. The Code hasn't been changed since the Jedi Order began. We don't know anything else, but change is good. We'll start a new tradition with the new generation," they both looked to Luke and Leia, tangled happily in the arms of their family.

"They're so grown up now," Obi-wan sighed. "You've raised them well, Anakin. They'll be wonderful Jedi," his tone was sad, almost…nostalgic. Anakin took his time to come up with a suitable retort.

"Maybe after we defeat the Sith, you and Nava could have a baby," he suggested, hesitantly. The force suddenly darkened with pain so sharp and vivid Anakin gasped.

_ "__No,"_ Obi-wan replied softly, quickly. Then calmer, "no. No more children for me. I won't lose another," he said, and his grip on Anakin tightened protectively. "I _won't_," he repeated, softer this time, but with more conviction. Anakin studied his face worriedly.

"I sense much… _Pain _on you, my master," he whispered. Obi-wan only sighed and laid a hand behind Anakin's head, pushing him back down to lay on his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

Anakin hugged Obi-wan to him tightly, listening to the heartbeat beneath his ears, it had quickened, but if he listened closely, he could almost imagine he heard it breaking.

Again.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Obi-wan. I'm your brother, you know I won't judge you. I want to help," he said against Obi-wan's chest. "And if I don't _want_ help?" But of course he didn't, he never did because he was a pompous independent barve. The quick thought that he_ could_ say he didn't care if Obi-wan _wanted_ help or not crossed his mind, but time and wisdom hard earned had taught him to be gentler.

"Then at least do me the honor of trusting I'll listen," he replied softly. It did the trick. Obi-wan's muscles uncoiled like a knot that had been strung too tight finally being loosened. He inhaled sharply, and Anakin heard the heartbeat beneath his ear quicken a pace.

"About a year after we were enslaved…I found a boy, and well…Took him under my wing, so to speak," Obi-wan began, speaking lightly, emotionlessly, as if he were reading aloud from a textbook, instead of for once talking about pain hidden too deeply within a heart that was strained with sorrows.

Anakin knew that the fact Obi-wan was speaking at all, was even daring to _open up for once and say what he was feeling _meant that Anakin was being shown the deepest of trust, and listened intently.

"His…His name was Qe-Azen. He is now an_ inspiration_, a guardian angel for the others under Sith rule. He was very much like you were, so much so that he…He asked me sometimes why I called him Anakin," Obi-wan chuckled humorlessly, breath hitching half way through. Anakin tightened his grip.

"He was seven when I found him. He was one of Sidious's potentials as a future apprentice. He was unlike the others, prone to attachment, was quick-tempered and aggressive, tenacious, naive. Qe-Azen was the best fighter in his age group, able to beat even some of the older ones, able to fight past the pain. Everyone assumed he was already lost, it would be entirely too easy to make him turn. The children who didn't despise him, feared him."

Anakin could see why Obi-wan had been so attracted to this child. Why he had not misunderstood him, as the others did. Just as he had neither feared nor despised Anakin.

"But I saw more in him…As Qui-gon saw more in you. I saw his courage to defend those weaker, and the sort of kindness to make them believe they weren't weak at all, I saw his loyalty and devotion, and a sharp tongue to boot." Anakin felt the chest beneath his head slowly rise, then fall again, the force labored with memories.

Anakin heard a child's laughter, the force flashed with a round face, pert grinning lips, and sparkling brown eyes. Love and pain, fighting for supremacy, was attached to the picture. But Obi-wan quickly regained control, his voice a bit more hoarse than it had been before.

"I…Well; I started teaching him the Jedi Way. He was fascinated by it. He had been an orphan before he was found by the Sith, living on the streets basically, taken care of by the older members. They taught him to be untrusting, brutal, and conniving," Obi-wan said this with no little bitterness.

Obi-wan had always cherished knowledge, education. Knowledge was a power the Sith tried to avoid, because it stemmed from truth. Anakin had seen the spark of outrage in his eyes when his new Padawan had admitted he didn't know how to read very well. He knew Obi-wan hated the fact that many children did not have the opportunities-nor the means- to learn, it was an injustice they both hated passionately.

"He had known no friendship or compassion before he came to us. When he learned a different way, a way that wasn't shoot now, ask questions later… He was so eager to learn, Anakin, he was a _genius_," Anakin smiled at the warm affection in Obi-wan's voice.

After seven years of parenthood and wisdom earned through the patience of said experience, he was past jealousy. He recognized the bragging of a proud parent when he heard it.

"Soon I started taking him down to see the other Jedi, when he was able to slip away from the_ torture_ Sith call teaching," Obi-wan spat.

"There were two other boys…Normal slaves, not force sensitive…That he stayed close too. Han Solo and Lando Calrissian. Han is an orphan from Corellia; he is a mechanic in the hangar, with Chewbacca," Anakin cocked his head.

"Chewbacca? The Wookie that helped Ahsoka on Iwasskah?" He asked. "Yes, him. When The Empire found out that Kashyysk had been helping the Rebellion, they rounded up or murdered the planetary leaders. Now the Wookie's are under the dictatorship of Sidious's _pretend _senate. Chewbacca was incarcerated, and forced into bondage. He and Han are inseparable. Lando is from Soccoro. Nava's fallen in love with the little gambler," Obi-wan let out a breathy, small laugh.

"He reminds me of myself at that age, only less moralistic. All the same, Qe-Azen…He never went anywhere without them, so they came too. They're good boys, Anakin. They're a bit…Impudent, but they have good hearts," Obi-wan explained, almost as if Anakin had protested against Obi-wan associating with three orphans.

"Of course they are impudent. They were orphans, and the streets don't precisely breed good table manners, but even_ that_ can't keep a good man down," Anakin agreed lightly.

"Exactly," Obi-wan seemed relieved he agreed. "Qe…He learned quickly. I hated...I couldn't _stand _seeing him have to fight the other younglings every day. It tore him apart, Anakin. He wasn't a cold-blooded killer, but it's how they're taught to begin hating and fearing themselves…You know what those emotions lead too," Obi-wan said. Anakin nodded gravely.

"I…" Obi-wan's voice caught. The force swirled with regret. "I tried to teach him how to release his emotions, how to control and defeat them. He tried to learn, he_ wanted_ to learn. He wanted to be a Jedi, and a great Jedi he would have been, but for every fear and frustration he released, the Sith added another each day. I…I couldn't stop it. There was _nothing _I could do," Anakin felt his eyes burn when Obi-wan let out a strangled sob.

"I heard when he was with the Sith, he was cruel, vindictive and bitter, but I never saw that side of him. When he was around me, or Han and Lando, around Nava or the other Jedi…He was _never_ that way," Obi-wan's voice had quivered when he said never.

For a minute, it seemed as if he would not continue; such was the pain in the force. Anakin could tell he probably had not spoken of Qe-Azen since…Since what?

"He was hotheaded, and defensive, yes. Every time there was a whisper, he thought someone was there, conspiring against him, he saw demons in shadows… Heard voices in the night," Obi-wan continued, with a haunted look in his eye, before Anakin could think of how to ask.

"Nevertheless, he was also introspective, attentive, _selfless_…He never complained. He would sneak extra food or bandages down to the Jedi sometimes. Every day he asked about me before I could get a word in edgewise. He was funny; Han and Lando idolized him, though they were the same age. Qe-Azen was…He was _a hero_. And he didn't know it."

Obi-wan described at last, letting his head fall back, as if he were exhausted with the story, as if he were done with the universe and its cruel ways, but was helpless, as they were all helpless, against it. "He didn't deserve to die," Obi-wan whispered. Anakin's gut clenched. He had thought that such a thing was part of this ending.

"What happened?" He gulped, knowing that whatever it was, it was tearing his master apart from the inside out. Sidious had struck again. "It…It was a few months ago," Obi–wan began, haltingly, no longer trying to restrain the quiver of grief in his voice.  
"Five months ago now. He had just turned thirteen. I remember that while the rest of us made him little gifts to celebrate, he was _terrified_. He was old enough for apprenticeship, and he knew Sidious had an eye on him. He never spoke his fear aloud, he always hid it behind a smile or joke, but I…I just _knew._ I despaired that I could not protect him, though I would try. I prepared him best I could," Obi-wan inhaled deeply.

Through the gasping strangled sobs Anakin felt this friend holding back by the cracks of his voice, by the anguish he felt inside his own heart, Anakin could_ sense_ the crumbling edges of control, could imagine a dam of emotions that had begun flooding over the rim, spilling out. Years of suppressed feelings, months of grief rebelling against the edges of iron will and habitual control.

He prepared for the tattered corners to cave in, for the ebullition. "T-then, one day, he _proved _what he had learned. What _I _had taught him. He was put in what the Sith call 'The Ring.' It was the test to determine if he was _worthy _to be Sidious's apprentice," Obi-wan growled angrily.

"Sometimes, for _entertainment_, the damned monsters will force two younglings to fight…To the death while they watch from the balconies. It isn't done often, they have too much fun taunting us slaves to have instance for that more than once every few months. But it happened to Qe-Azen," _why?_ Anakin wondered of the force. _Of all the people, why him? Why do you keep taking people from this man?_

"He was placed in the ring that day, of his birth. Almost every Sith came to watch him fight, he had quite the record with them. Even Sidious and Vader attended. It was as if it were a holiday for them, as if that boy's suffering was a _game_ to them…" Obi-wan trailed off, gaining back control of his voice, which had risen in fury.

"The masters were in a _light mood_," Obi-wan continued, letting out a small, sour laugh, trembling beneath Anakin's hands, unnoticing that his grip had become painful, had started to bruise.

"They even let us lowly servants attend. Thank the heavens Chewie was there to hold down Han and Lando, or they would have stormed into the rink. The Jedi stayed in the back, where it was impossible to see, but we could still hear what was going on. Qe came out first. Ahsoka was up front, next to Starkiller. She said he…He looked as if he were looking for someone," Anakin could very well imagine whom.

"When he saw her there, and sensed the rest of us, he must have been relieved. He was terrified. He was just a child, and he knew what being Sidious' apprentice meant…_My _boy was terrified," Obi-wan whispered, through gritted teeth. Anakin bit his bottom lip.

"They dragged out a girl next. She could not have been more than ten years old, Ahsoka said. She was tiny, and already beaten. Easy kill. But what signaled her for death was that she refused to kill for sport," so she had already been Light. She had been unable to embrace Darkness. A complete waste of talent, and a good life. Anakin's jaw clenched.

"Qe knew her- he had spoken of her a few times. She was mostly the healer among them. She was horrible with weapons, she was always gentle, constantly kind no matter how the others taunted her for it or the Sith punished her. She…She would have been like Bant," at the memory of the gentle, kindhearted healer whom had tended most of Anakin's childhood injuries with a cheerful and caring demeanor, Anakin felt a tear dribble down his face.

Bant had been unable to harm a soul. She had always been tender, never prone to fighting despite her stubborn and brave heart. She, too, was dead, and Anakin knew Obi-wan had treasured her friendship greatly.

She hadn't deserved to die either.

"She was unarmed, beaten, weak, while Qe was given a lightsaber. It was an unfair fight, and the only reason she had been thrown inside the rink was to die, slowly and painfully. We all knew it. She did not beg, though. Ahsoka said she merely rolled into a ball and cried. Qe-Azen…" Obi-wan let out a sob.

"Force, he was brave, Anakin. Instead of attacking, he dropped the saber, without a word. I heard it fall. The Sith watched him with baited breath when he walked up to her, thinking he meant to kill her with his own hands, or with the Force. They _cheered_," Obi-wan sounded sick.

"It was…Tense. I did not want to believe he would, I knew it would haunt him if he killed a defenseless enemy, but we all knew what would happen if he wouldn't. I…Anakin, I've never been so afraid in my life, even my fear for you the thousand times you've gotten hurt couldn't compare….There was no middle ground. It was do or die," win or lose.

The only option was lose with honor, or win with malice. Anakin hated Sidious all the more profusely for pushing a _child_ into such an predicament.

"Qe…He chose honor. Instead of killing her, he put an arm around her and helped her to her feet. He turned to the crowd and told the Sith, to their faces, looking _directly_ at Darth Sidious, that he wouldn't kill an unarmed, beaten, weaker opponent. It wasn't the _Jedi Way,"_ Anakin inhaled sharply at the gall Obi-wan described.

A thirteen-year-old_ child_ had looked straight into the face of the grand Emperor, and basically told him 'no' to his_ face_? Anakin wondered if he would had the courage, and could not imagine he would have.

"He told the Sith they were cowards and fools for picking to live a life of hatred and rage. He told them real strength, _real power_, was in resisting the temptation of the Dark, was showing compassion and understanding to their enemies. The only way to bring order was with loyalty, not fear," Anakin was incredulous.

"The only way to promote peace was with peace. And then, quite clearly, he informed them that he would _not_ kill this girl, he would_ not_ serve them any longer, he was _not _a Sith, they would _not _win the fight in the end, and he did _not _give a kriffing hell what they had to say about it," Obi-wan whispered with awe. Anakin was in awe himself.

"You…" He had to clear past the lump in his throat. "You taught him well," he observed. Obi-wan did not draw comfort from this. "I led him to his _death_," Obi-wan choked lividly.

"Sidious was… Furious. His shout shook the walls. He ordered Vader, and whoever else would do it, to kill the girl, then bring him Qe-Azen. The Jedi…We tried to do something. We tripped Sith before they charged, we nabbed their sabers, we moved to intercept them, Qe defended the girl with his saber for as long as he could. I fought to get to him…But in the end, it didn't matter. Nothing we did mattered," Anakin's bottom lip quivered.

"I'm so sorry," he said, already knowing that however the child had died, he had died in the worst possible way. "They murdered that girl, right in front of Qe-Azen, and dragged him beaten and bloody to his knees before Sidious. When he got there, he spit on the Sidious's shoes," Anakin wanted to applaud the dead boy's ghost. _You're awesome,_ he sent to the Force.

"I can't think of anything that compares to the sheer _idiocy_…and Bravery in that. But for all his bravery, for all his selflessness…Sidious ordered him _whipped_ to death immediately. He died right there, screaming…All I remember is Nava and Mace struggling to hold me down. They had to _drag_ me out of the room. They kept him crying out for h-hours," Obi-wan sobbed again.

"They killed him," he whispered, and it was the crux all of his problems since birth. Anakin shook his head. "I'm so sorry…" He whispered, sitting up, fumbling to wipe the wetness away, but Obi-wan grabbed his wrist, staring at him with an almost frenzied desperation.

"Anakin," he whispered quickly, before he lost the fight against his own sorrow. "Everything I've ever done, I've done to protect you. When we heard you had been captured…Force, half of me wished it were so if only I got to see you again, but…" Obi-wan swallowed audibly, obviously holding back tears so that he could get this last piece out.

Anakin felt as if it were his own heart breaking. "But stars, another part of me prayed to the _Force_ that you'd be killed before you got here. In the past, even if I wasn't able to protect you, I'd at least be able to stand by you, to transfer some of the pain to myself, I've been able to take it _with_ you. But here…Sidious will make you his apprentice, he'll make you _suffer_, like he did Qe-Azen, he'll hurt you, and I can't do anything about it," Obi-wan let out a sob.

"I can't lose you, Ani…It would destroy me, I-I just can't, not now… You have to promise me you won't do that to me, _p-promise_…" Without conscious thought, without memory of ever moving, Anakin had Obi-wan in his arms, holding his master tight as he sobbed uncontrollably, the force fragmented with an implosion of pain.

Anakin grabbed it, contained it within their own bubble hurriedly, not wanting to wake the twins. This moment was not meant to be shared. Obi-wan _needed _this, he needed to mourn, and Anakin was going to give it to him, even if in the process it felt as if his own heart were being shredded.

He had been strong, had borne _too_ _much_ pain relentlessly for years, and strength only lasted so long. "They killed my child…. I had to listen to his screams…I couldn't do _anything…"_ Obi-wan cried into Anakin's chest, shoulders shaking violently, gasping for breath behind his sobs.

"I know," Anakin whispered back, tears running down his own cheeks. Every tear Obi-wan shed tore into his soul, filled him with rage and grief, but there was nothing he could do but hope. Hope that there would be peace in the end, whatever end that may be. "I know. I'm so sorry, Obi-wan," he whispered. "_I loved him_," Obi-wan wept.

Anakin nodded against silky hair, letting Obi-wan hug him as tightly as if he were drowning beneath the flood of buried emotions, as if his heart were breaking for the last time and fixing it was no longer an option, as if his life had ceased to have meaning.

"I'm sorry," Anakin said again, kissing the top of his head. "Sidious won't get away with this, master. He _won't,_ force, I'm so, so, sorry…" Because if this were Luke, if he had been forced to hear and know that his son was being_ tortured_ to death for his gallantry, because of morals Anakin himself had taught him…

"Force, master, I'm sorry," he repeated, horrified by the vision, but Obi-wan was past the point of hearing or feeling anything but the pain he had pushed back but arose now in excruciating waves. Anakin held him for a countless number of minutes, or hours, time that seemed inconsequential in the face of anguish as Obi-wan wept in his arms.

For every tear he felt soaking through his shirt, he added two more. He had never seen his master weep like this, had never heard and felt what must have occurred so many times before…It was breaking his heart to finally see the legendary strength fail.

_I should have been there_ he thought. _I could have saved you, Qe-Azen. For yourself, for Obi-wan…I could have protected you from this. I should have been here;_ he closed his eyes and struggled not to sob himself. This was not his moment.

Finally, after what seemed like century, when the sun was not yet visible but the sky had grown a bit lighter, Obi-wan stopped. Anakin opened his eyes, wondering at how silent it had become, wondering at the spent reserves of emptiness that had now replaced the pain. He did not lessen his protective grip, nor did Obi-wan release him.

They were ready to start again.

After a moment, Anakin allowed Obi-wan to pull away, eyes red-rimmed. They were too old of friends for Obi-wan to feel embarrassment anymore. He merely wiped away his tears silently.  
"Are you alright?" Anakin whispered at last. Obi-wan nodded. "Yes. I…I haven't spoken his name in months. I'm alright now," which probably meant he'd never be alright again, but even daring to hope he might was a sign of strength re-found. "Sidious will _pay _for what he's done to you, all of you," Anakin then repeated fiercely.

But Obi-wan shook his head. "I don't want revenge, Anakin. I just don't want to lose you, too. You're all I have left, and, so soon after Sidious took Qe-Azen, I'm not strong enough…" his voice cracked. Anakin couldn't take the fear he saw etched into Obi-wan's face.

"I promise you," he whispered, pulling him back into a tight hug. "I_ promise_; Sidious will not take another child from you. I'm _not_ dying, and I'm _not_ going to the Dark Side. I won't hurt you like that," he kissed his forehead. "And I won't leave you again either. From now on you're never getting rid of me again, do you hear me? We're The Team, forever," he vowed.

Obi-wan relaxed at last, nodding against his chest, hugging him tightly. "Sounds good," he agreed, voice muffled. Anakin nodded, rubbing his back, and stared up at the ceiling. Obi-wan may not have wanted revenge, but Anakin didn't either, He wanted_ justice_.

Qe-Azen had_ not_ deserved to die. He had been a brave Jedi, a compassionate child like his master. _And I promise you, Qe-Azen, you won't have died in vain. I'll get them out of here, I'll bring Sidious down, I'll protect my family…And the Jedi Way, which you died for, will not die with you. _

And so began the madness.


	17. Enslaved heroes

~Rex's POV~

They awoke at dawn. As all slaves of the Empire did, they rose before the sun had even reached its morning zenith, before even sleepless Courascant fully came too. Captain Rex sighed as he instinctively sat up in his hard bunk, rubbing the tender sores running along his back, and the crick in his neck. They were not given very…Comfortable accommodations.

After all, they were only Stormtroopers.

"Come on, boys, days a wastin!" he called, rousing the others of the 501st battalion, who likewise were once more not very happy at having woken up with more aches than they had drifted to sleep with. At first sight of the barracks where the Empire's army slept, one would come to the instant conclusion that they were prisoners.

Rex considered it worse than that. They were not only slaves, prisoners, traitors and dogs, but _Stormtroopers,_ too. There was no worse fate, except maybe being a slave directly to the Sith themselves, like the Jedi were nowadays.

Still, their life, a life of being nothing but clones in the eyes of the Sith did not pass top notch careers in the galaxy either. Their bunks were cramped, stacked and lined with cruel efficiency, not even considered to be slightly comfortable.

Sometimes Rex thought that maybe the Sith made their lives so hard because of their former allegiance with the Jedi, an allegiance that under scrutiny most troopers would have told you was involuntary. Many of the other Stormtrooper brigades besides the 501st and 212nd might have agreed.

War brought on rage, terrible anger, and seeing the death of your brothers whenever you went into battle was only a default line for catastrophe. Many of them blamed the Jedi for the war-and by extension, their enslavement.

Rex could never blame the man who had, just the day before, told him to take care of himself despite the fact that it had been Rex to capture them, to help bring them here at all.

Settling his eyes over to the corner where Artoo and Threepio had been manually turned off, Rex dropped down from his top bunk, deftly avoiding heads and legs as he did so.

Others moped past him to the freshers, to take a quick rinse in the showers before heading off to the mess, where ration bars awaited them. He didn't know what to do with Anakin's droids. He had found them, hidden away in one of the supply closets the other night.

Both shivering-and Threepio complaining as usual- from the experience of escaping the torturous plains of the droid disassembling units, Rex had managed to bully them into coming with him and had tasked Fives with delivering them to the barracks safely.

Remembering how fond of the two metal heaps the twins had been, he couldn't imagine trying to erase their memories, or worse, give the poor creatures to the Sith.

"Rex," Fives walked over, interrupting his reverie with eyes that were hard in the dim light that managed to sneak its way through the cracks and lining of the doors like the rats that scurried about the bottom of their barracks.

Rex looked up, and smiled grimly at the defiant twinkle in Five's eyes. Soon roll call would be up. He would have to hide those droids, or risk having them taken anyway. After that, he needed to get his head in the game.

Never the matter that the clones and Jedi were both slaves to the Empire, they often did not cross paths. The troopers were kept within the city, quelling riots, tracking down potential members of the Rebellion, finding Force sensitive children to abduct.

They had a job away from home, but perhaps he could still find a way to help his old general in this small act of kindness. He owed Anakin that much, at least. Cody and his crew, being more _docile _than Rex and the 501st, had more contact with the Jedi than Rex ever would.

Rex took this into consideration, forming the plan inside of his head through the fresher and past the time it took for him to dawn his armor, all the while staring contemplatively at the droids, both of whom could be taken apart. "Roll call!" Rex jumped. Usually the warning was for those who were not yet prepared for the day's examination by the time the Sith arrived.

At times, it would be close to noon, leaving the clones sweltering inside of the barracks, unable to leave, unable to take off their armor for fear the Sith would walk in the door at that moment. Without food or water, sitting there only to suffer.

This time, he knew Fives had hollered it for him to get a move on and remove those droids. Rex's heart skipped a beat as he snapped around to see the giant doors, locked throughout the night as if the Sith expected them to run anywhere (where was there to go?) slowly peeking open to allow a larger sliver of light to fall in.

He dove at the droids as if they held the secrets of the universe beneath their metal domes. With all his strength, he shoved them forward towards his brothers, who likewise were scrambling into an acceptable row. "Hide them!" he hissed, knowing that it was idiotic to think anything amiss would get past a Sith, but he had an idea for that as well.

Obediently, recognizing them immediately, his brothers parted ways and suddenly both droids were lying securely behind the lines of clones, whom all crowded a bit closer than usual, shoulder to shoulder to allow not even the slightest glimpse to pass through their defense.

Rex snapped to attention before his battalion just as the doors opened fully and to his surprise it was merely Captain Tarkin who walked through the doors, check board in place and stiffly _arrogant_ as usual. Rex resisted the urge to roll his eyes, not this guy.

He would rather have had the Sith, thinking about it. At least the Sith acknowledged them as breathing beings. Tarkin just plain thought them dirt, dry wispy, inconsequential dirt, too. Rex was glad that his kid, that little rude spitfire had managed to escape him. Kriff, he had_ cheered_ when he heard she had run away.

At least someone had gotten away.

"Sir," the troopers snapped to attention, eyes held ahead as if their revulsion for him was not of any consequence either. Rex saluted as the graying man approached him, aquiline features most hawkish in the dim light. "Captain," Commander Tarkin now, said formally, without looking at him.

"Darth Parathion sends his regrets," Rex resisted the urge to snort. As if any of the Sith regretted anything that they did, or knew what regret was in the first place, and both of them knew Tarkin was lying purely out of habit. After awhile, the truth just seemed like an idiotic thing.

_After awhile, the truth just seems too good to be true_, Rex thought tiredly, noting that he was unsurprised by Tarkin's lie. In fact, lying was the main occupation here. Even the clones had stopped telling one another the truth. Rex knew because whenever he asked one of them if he was alright; he said yes. And that was a lie.

"He is currently busy with another matter," –code word for he was probably brutalizing one of the slaves- "and thenceforth I will do attendance this morning, shall we begin?" –due to the fact that it was a purely rhetorical question, Rex said nothing- "Good," and he began to name off a long list of CT-something something…

_I remember a time when he were called by our names,_ Rex thought bitterly, glaring at Tarkin as he checked down the list with evident boredom. Rex glanced back at the treasure the clones hid behind them, which thanks to the Fates, would not fall into Sith hands by his doing. Later, he would deliver them to Cody. It was the least he could do, and no one would suspect them.

_After all,_ Rex reflected with dark humor. _We are only slaves. _

* * *

~Mara's POV~

From the age of three years old, Mara Jade had been gifted with her own personal brand of monster. The monster haunted her dreams at times, so real and intimate that she was sure the monster never truly went away, he just became more real at night while she slept.

Unlike other children her age, the monster was not Sidious, or the stormtroopers who destroyed lives in the night or the Sith that murdered on a grand scale or any of those things related. It wasn't even her father, due to the fact that she had seen him so little it was a hard stretch to pull up the fragmented pieces of his face in her mind. No, her monster was faceless.

She called it the shadow.

The shadow was swift, swifter than Mara could ever hope to be. It was not a being of physical matter; or one that was attached to any such owner. It slithered over objects with the oily grace of smoke, and left a black residue on all in its path, it could be wide or thin, little or big.

It could, unfortunately, talk. Often the Shadow_ did_ talk as it hunted her throughout the various environments her dreams took her too. Never nice places. They were always abandoned, destroyed Sith temples, or running through a town where the mass graves had been dug up by animals.

There were few times when she recognized the desecrated bodies or faces of those past gone. She did not stop to really look; much less take the time to think about it.

One of the only reasons why these dreams had not completely ruined her young mind was because they all ended the same. The Shadow came one step close to catching her. But it never did. At the same time, Mara feared for the night when the Shadow finally caught up with her, finally grabbed it's prey.

What then?

She had thought, in a juvenile way supposedly, that running away might help. But it hadn't, and Mara stood silently, smiling in ill-hidden delight as her new caretaker took away her soiled sheets after another night of nightmare, grumbling under her breath.

"You're thoroughly too old to be wetting the bed still, kid," muttered Mara's new partner, as she marched past, blankets held at a steady distance with the Force. The eleven year old considered briefly stuffing them into Asajj's face _with _the Force, a dimpled grin making its way unto her face at the image. She could use some comedy after another encounter with the shadow.

"You needed to clean them anyway. They smell like poisonous feet, your feet really," Mara quipped cheerily, glad that at least Asajj did not pity her or try to coddle her like her nurses had.

She was not some baby to be _coddled,_ and frankly, Asajj's unsympathetic nature eased her, because she understood it.

Because it was_ honest_, her nurses had all pretended to like her, had been polite out of fear of her father. They had lied about how much they loved her, had tried to be her friend, unnecessarily. Saji feared neither Mara nor her father, and the woman was not afraid to say it, show it and didn't care if it hurt Mara's feelings. Saji was honest. She told the truth, and she wasn't ashamed of it.

And the truth was something Mara craved desperately. So, considerably more cheery with Asajj's grumpiness, she only smirked as Asajj chucked the sheets into the nearest pile with the force. "Yeah? Well, smart mouth, you can wash them then. Or sleep in them again for all I care," Asajj snapped back, eyes blazing with indignant anger.

That was another honest thing about Saji, in Mara's opinion. Her entire face could shut down, but never her eyes. Her eyes were reflections of her feelings. Her eyes were the truth, and Mara delighted in it.

"Fine," she chirped. "I'll sleep in them. But after awhile, I don't know if you'll be able to handle the smell…" she trailed off, knowing for one just how rancid soiled sheets smelled after about two days. But hey, she could deal with it. But Asajj couldn't, and they both knew that.

"Why you little…" Her eyes flashed again, and for a moment it appeared that she might strike Mara for the first time, but she didn't. She never did. Mara crossed her arms stubbornly and smirked.

"Besides, I don't know_ how_ to wash clothes," she pointed out reasonably. Asajj stood there, glaring, the force itself simmering with her heated fury, and then it vanished, blown away by a perpetually cold wind. Either Saji was hot or cold, never warm.

"Yeah, well, you're gonna learn sooner or later, and there's no time like the present," Asajj decided, coldly. Mara's eyes narrowed. "I don't _want_ to learn. Washing clothes is for slaves," she determined, quite confident in this. After all, she had never done her own laundry before and frankly she did not plan on starting now just because Saji thought so.

Mara Jade obeyed _no one._ "I don't care what you want!" Was the irate answer from Asajj Ventress, her Force signature once more flashing a heat wave against Mara's. "You do as I say!" Asajj shouted.

Mara's own temper flared, crashing against Asajj's with the enormity of a cresting wave. She lifted her chin defiantly. "I don't have to do anything I don't want too!" She yelled, with a stomp of one foot. In a second, Asajj had swooshed so close that Mara was suddenly dwarfed beneath her.

She attempted to take a step back, to reassert her authority, but the time never came, because suddenly her shoulder was grabbed in a bone-crushing grip.

She looked up into cold ice blue eyes, which frightened her more than the livid bright azures. "Listen to me, you little _skug_," Ventress hissed at her. "This is my house, my roof, my rules…Unless you want to suddenly find yourself bound and gagged on Sidious's doorstep, I suggest you get over your superior Ms. Highness streak and _do as I say_," Ventress growled, calmly for all the fear the threat carried. Mara's breath hitched at the thought of suddenly being placed in Sidious' hand to become his apprentice.

It would almost be as bad as watching as the shadow win, no, it _would_ be letting the shadow get his hands on her, and that was something Mara would rather die than behold.

Her defiance broke as quickly as it took for her bottom lip to pucker. She had never had anyone speak so coldly to her before, nor ever treat her in such a brutally honest manner. Pouting, holding back tears, she merely nodded, managing to grunt out a quiet "fine," as a sign of surrender.

With a sharp nod, Asajj released her shoulder. She straightened, ignoring Mara's tears, and looked at the chrono. "Blast," she growled. "I'm gonna be late if I stay to teach you… You see what you did?" she demanded bitterly.

_Its your own fault_, Mara thought sulkily, though refused to say. She received a sharp clonk upside the head with Asajj's lightsaber all the same.

"Don't _think_ back to me, youngling. Get your cloak, you're going to Dex's," she ordered. Mara summoned both cloaks to her hands with a flick of the force, offering Saji her own as a small peace offering. "Where are you going?" She wondered, slipping hers on. Asajj snatched hers from Mara's grip, though without any real bite, neatly pulling it on.

"None of your business," Asajj snapped. Mara pursed her lips, reluctant to take no for an answer. After all, she was down but not out. Not yet, and not ever. Reaching tentatively into the still shaky Force around her, she picked at Asajj's mental shields, only to find she need not have done so.

She could just use the bond. "You're going bounty hunting!" She finally blurted, excitedly, forgetting the tension between them. Asajj's head snapped up, surprise clear on her face that Mara had read her mind so easily. "You're looking for some guy who works for the Empire! You're gonna bring him to the Rebels, aren't you?" Mara cried, nearly bouncing on her heels with elation

"Shut up!" Ventress hissed, glancing at the walls with almost anxiety. "Walls have ears," she said. Mara waved this predicament away civilly. "No one will hear you, and no one else cares! Oh, can't I come, Saji? _Please_?" Mara pleaded, widening her eyes to take on that sweet pathetic look which melted the heart of all her nannies.

Saji only glared more profusely. "No," she grumbled shortly. Mara's face fell. "But why not?" She whined. "I can catch people just as well as you can!" She complained. "No, you can't," was the calm answer.

"You barely know how to lift anything heavier than vase yet with the Force; much less use it to track somebody. You would only get in my way," she said. "So I won't help. I'll watch! Come on, Saji, aren't we partners?" She cajoled, frustrated by this lack of cooperation today. Force, had Saji not gotten enough sleep or _what_?

Ventress sighed. "No, we aren't. Listen, kid, I'm a person who runs _solo_. Besides, this might be dangerous…"She trailed off at Mara's snort. "I lived with Sith, Saji. I was supposed o be Sidious's apprentice. You think I care about danger? Besides, how am I ever going to learn to track with the Force if you never let me_ try_?" she reasoned, slyly.

This gained another glare, though it was different. Saji never really looked at anything, Mara had noticed. She glared, and the intensity of her glare gave away her thoughts. Her look now as a mere thoughtful glare. "You're thinking," she stated impatiently.

"Yeah…" Ventress's eyes traveled over her small frame pensively. "You just watch, got it? And stay behind me at all times. If I feel you so much as trying to see his face, I swear I'll…" the threat went unfinished and unvalidated. Mara wasn't listening anyway.

"Yes, yes! I promise!" She cried, grasping her hands together pleadingly. Ventress sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ugh…I just _know_ I'm going to regret this. Alright, kid, come on," with a jerk of her shoulder to the door, Ventress picked up the soiled sheets with the Force.

Stepping almost tentatively, face turned away from the wind, she started forward, Mara following on her heels, heart racing with the excitement of future adventure. She was going to help catch somebody! She was going to be _a bounty hunter_! Suddenly, noticing that the smell had indeed followed them, she wrinkled her nose.

"Why are you bringing_ that_ stuff? It's spoiled," she pointed out callously. "I know," Ventress agreed darkly. "We're going to burn it," she decided. Mara's brow rumpled in confusion. "But I thought you were going to teach me to clean clothes," she pointed out puzzled.

"Don't remind me. And it doesn't matter now, I need to get some new blankets anyway. And the money from this gig will help me out with it. No use in keeping around soiled stuff," was the firm answer.

Mara Jade grinned, nodding, and skipped along behind Saji exuberantly. Even though Saji hadn't said it that time, Mara knew what she hadn't said, and the fact that she was honest about that too struck her as heroic.

Then again, everything about Asajj Ventress just seemed heroic to her.


	18. Force and Freedom

~Luke's POV~

When Luke Skywalker finally let his eyes flutter open, the first thing that his brain consciously noted was the unusual warmth around him. Fuzzily, Luke thought little of it as he slowly gained back awareness. He didn't remember ever having been so slow to wake-or so unwilling before.

More often than not he was geared and excited to begin another day, too restless to remain in bed and allow his body to catch up with his brain, lacking sufficient enough patience to allow laziness to set in. He always had to be doing something. …

But at the moment, his brain was content just not to think about it, about anything in particular truthfully. And his bones and muscles weren't about to begin their daily cycle when it wasn't absolutely necessary. Curious as to why this change of events could have occurred, he focused on the beam of sunlight that wavered before him from the closed windows.

It was a single beam, small, inconsequential, yet so beautiful that he couldn't help but stare at it, and the small particles of dust it illumined with its luminance. He could not help but feel this _meant_ something somehow. Amongst the darkness, he was warm. Catching his eye in the confusion, light remained. Odd. Metaphorical. Leia would figure it out.

Strange enough for a twelve year old boy, Luke felt no hurry to find his sister and ask her about it. Gradually, he dimly noticed that he could sense-physically, rather than with the Force- a rather hard object behind him, and feel the nape of his neck hair blown gently by some ethereal wind. The wind was warm, paced and soft.

He realized the source of warmth that had enveloped him was coming from that surreal wind figure.

Blinking, he scowled and tried to remember whether he and Leia had been sparring the night before, or practicing their wrestling skills or _something,_ because she didn't normally sleep beside him.

Not since they were little had they done that, except for the nights when the force plagued them with horrid dreams and fragmented visions that left both shuddering in the aftermath, desperate for comfort of any sort.

But then that figure behind him stirred, faintly at first, then with a growing urgency, as if they had to attain wakefulness or die. Luke realized that there was a long, _orange _arm slung around his shoulders, holding him closely swaddled against a feminine chest like his mother used too when she had rocked him to sleep as a baby.

With knowledge, came realization. Luke grinned slowly, joy building in his chest as he remembered the day before, remembered where he was and who exactly was beside him. They had gone to sleep talking. At his back, ever the thoughtful lump, Ahsoka Tano mumbled something before the arm left him.

Her arousal woke the others in a chain effect. Luke turned around. Grinning so hard his cheeks ached, sitting up as Intrepid and Lux stirred, along with Leia. A bit farther off, he saw his father raise his head and blink rapidly at the light, his eyes drawn to it as if it were a lighthouse beacon amidst storm.

Groaning, his mother sat up, rubbing her eyes as if she suspected she were still asleep and dreaming. Luke sighed happily, his joy contained so that it was irrepressible contentment as he laid back against the virtually nonexistent pillows, hands behind his head as he gazed at the ray of dawn light that had peeked in through the ray shielded windows.

_We're prisoners,_ he thought idly. _Slaves, bargaining chips and tools… Hmm, interesting, _this fact bothered him as little as what all of that meant for his family, and the Jedi, and the future of the galaxy in general.

For the moment, in that moment, nothing else mattered but that they were together. And if he should have died at that moment, Luke was content knowing that he would have died smiling.

At his side, Ahsoka yawned softly, also sleepily regarding the ray of sunshine without much expression but the contentment in her eyes. He could sense that she wasn't quite awake yet, he guessed he was not either.

That hardly bothered him. He felt a hand gently brush the hair away from his forehead. He did not need to look to sense that the other's eyes had been drawn to the exact same spot, and that they were staring with all the contentment of the galaxy, at the light as if transfixed.

As if they had never seen it before, and now that they had, couldn't seem to figure out just what the heck it was, and why it existed. Finally connecting the pieces of the puzzle, Luke deduced that this was the first ray of golden light they had seen together for seven years. Perhaps it was a celebratory congratulations from the Force. Perhaps it was just light. What and why it was did not make so much of a difference.

After a length of time, his sister, who looked around curiously, broke the spell and her eyes grew wide with sudden understanding. Things were so much simpler when you were ignorant. With a cock of her head, she grinned. "Well," she observed, cheerily, positioning her head on her elbow.

"Hello there," she greeted. The others turned from the hypnotizing light to stare at one another, blink, and then they remembered. With one burst of joy that briefly turned away the darkness in the Force, Luke found himself once more hugged tight enough that breathing became an impossibility.

"Luke," Ahsoka chuckled, when she released him and he managed to gasp for breath. She moved past him, swinging her legs off the edge of the bed. "Did you sleep well?" A common enough question, yet it filled him with delight. "Well enough. You're very warm," he informed her. She grinned bright enough to outdo Tatooine's twin suns.

"Good to know," she replied with amusement. "Ahh…I haven't slept that well since about twenty years ago. Obi-wan?" Their father observed merrily, as he sat up to stretch luxuriously. "I'd say more about thirty years. I met you twenty years ago, and forgot what sleep felt like since," was his uncle's playful response, as he too sat up. He received a laughing swat on the shoulder for his blatant opinions.

"Jokesters till the end. That ray could never be more beautiful," observed Nava, on the other side of Obi. "It's as if I've never seen light before," Leia agreed, hopping from bed with the aid of Lux. "Certainly looks better from up here than down in the dungeons," Lux agreed with a wan smile, then it wavered.

"What time is it?" He asked softly. In a flash, the happiness around the enslaved Jedi transformed into worry. They turned to Obi-wan, who sighed. "Almost dawn. We'd best get back before someone realizes we're missing," he pointed out. "You all are leaving?" Luke heard his mother squeak, her alarm a beacon in the force as she grabbed Nava's arm as if to compel her to stay.

"We must, Padme. We're slaves, remember?" Nava gently admonished, taking her arm away with no little compassion. Luke felt as if he had been punched in the gut. _Slaves._

"No!" Leia cried, evidently of the same opinion. "There must be something we can do! Father, can't you do anything? Sidious will listen to you!" She objected, turning desperately to their father, who shook his head sadly.

"Why would Sidious listen to him?" Ahsoka asked, confusedly. Luke remembered that they had never gotten into the importance of their arrival the night before. They had been too happy with the reunion.

"I'll explain later," Obi assured them. Luke smiled dimly. It seemed that they had been talking that night, probably staying up late. Nevertheless, that was not the current issue at the moment. The thought of his family being underneath the control of the Sith regime…

Luke remembered the downtrodden faces of his slave friends on Tatooine, and his blood boiled at the thought that his family could be subjected to the same ruthlessness, if not worse cruelty.

His father gave him an understanding look, but shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, but it's out of my hands. I can't risk Sidious having even the slightest bit more advantage over me. If I asked him to do anything-there'd be a price," he explained, not without regret.

Luke stared at his father, flabbergasted beyond imagining. It had always seemed to him that his father was somehow above the normal limits of everyone else, omnipotent somehow. Never perfect, but there had never before been anything larger than him.

He was not just the force's Chosen one to them, in their family he had always been akin to the force itself, unmovable and unconquerable. The revelation that he wasn't scared Luke enormously. "A price we aren't willing to let any of you pay," Nava spoke up, firmly.

As if she had read his thoughts, their eyes met and she smiled gently, such a upsurge of compassion and love in her eyes that Luke felt as if he were drowning in the light of her gaze.

"Besides, with the loss of us, Sidious would surely make the other's lives all the harder. That, too, is something I refuse to have on my shoulders," Intrepid declared, rolling her shoulders as if she could already feel the load on them growing. Leia shook her head, cheeks flaming with fury at the situation they were all helpless to prevent.

With a change of subject, Ahsoka turned to their father teasingly. "On the bright side, I remember a time when you would never have been able to admit when something was out of your hands, sky-guy. It's a nice change. Masters Yoda and Windu will have an epilepsy," she teased. Their father smiled lopsidedly. "Wouldn't be the first time I caused somehow to have such a thing. By the way, if you all see me hanging around with Sith today-just ignore me," he cautioned them.

Once again, confusion and worry flared in the force. "Don't worry. He isn't going to the Dark Side. Just ignore him and we'll explain the plan later tonight," Obi-wan repeated.

"This isn't _right._ And with any luck we can escape soon, because if I see a Sith lay a hand on any of you, I hope you know they're going to end up flat and squashed on the concrete below the Senate Building roof…And good riddance to them," his sister grunted.

"You are your father's child. Come, we have to get going," Lux observed with amusement, jerking his head to the door a s the beam of light grew fatter in the window.

"He's right," yet with this exclamation spurred no one to action in any of its forms, not sure how to say farewell without really breaking into more tears because this_ could_ be goodbye. For good. Forever this time.

And that was a prospect scarier than suffering Sidious's wrath.

At length, it was their mother who squared her shoulders as if facing a firing squad. "We don't have to say goodbye. We just have to say see you later," she decreed, and as surely as their father had always seemed like the force itself, likewise their mother was the very epitome of law and order.

"Or, as tradition would have it, may the Force be with you," Intrepid contradicted, and Luke wondered if that saying had been created for the sole purpose of this moment, this moment where none of them wanted to say goodbye, yet it wasn't them to say 'see you later' when it wasn't the truth. So, sometimes, the only truth was that they hoped the Force would be with the other.

"May the Force be with you," he intoned, and the call went around before they exited the room, back into the bowels of enslavement.

* * *

~Mace's POV~

"By all the Force…Did you find them?" Mace asked softly, almost urgently, as he noticed four lithe bodies slip back into the one large room that was the slave quarters. Bonteri, he knew, had been delivered back into the dungeons where they kept the political prisoners.

And not a moment too soon, diversions were rather hard to keep up for an extended amount of time, and even the pathetic, lazy guards the Sith thought fit to keep down in the lightless storage containers were not so stupid as to not notice when they were being duped.

It had only been a matter of time.

Appearing from the stuffed calamity of stretching bodies that had become of the Force users of the galaxy, Master Yoda deftly weaved his way through the crowd into the small private pocket they had chosen for the moment. "We found them," Nava concurred, as she walked up beside Obi-wan as if she were obliviously unaware of how _right_ they looked side by side.

After seven years, one began to notice slight shifts in other people, and as close as they had been forced to live, Mace himself had felt slight infatuations-if that was what it was to be called- with certain other women, if only to relieve some of his own pain, but had never_ used_ them to cleanse himself.

Besides, being so close also allowed one to discover much more about the person who slept at their back. Mace had learned things about his fellow Jedi he would never have thought possible before. He had seen more of them break into heaving sobs or stiffen into sullen silence more times than he cared to count.

"And?" Mace pressed, single minded on this one task. "They're safe. Sidious has them all locked away in my old quarters," Obi-wan reported. "And they aren't very happy about it," Intrepid put in, as she joined Ahsoka beside their elders.

Mace snorted. He assumed so. Then, exchanging a glance with his old master, he noted how none of them had ever known this.

It was not often that any of them were surprised, even without the Force, intuition and instinct remained as substitute guides, and the observation skills of His Order were not lacking. Nevertheless, this was one thing he hadn't been expecting when he asked for a report.

"He didn't destroy it?" He gasped. From what Mace had seen of his former home, Sidious had wrecked every other thing that he could find. The archives, especially, had sent shivers of anguish through the others.

"He hasn't _touched_ it in twelve years. He told them he_ saved_ it for them," Mace saw Obi-wan's face stiffen with disgust. He hadn't been the same since Qe-Azen died.

It had both hardened and softened something in the other master that Mace dared not think too deeply about, for fear that it would break his heart to realize that it had hardened and softened in them all.

"I see," he mumbled, the pieces starting to come into place. "So, that's why he's kept us alive this long…Supported us, if only a little. He wanted as many of us alive as possible. Somehow he knew that Anakin would be back, and wanted a way to black mail him," he explained for his master, who had not yet heard the news.

Yoda's eyes darkened gravely. "He _what_?" Apparently the news was brand new to the girls as well, they stared at him with horror. Obi-wan nodded calmly, unperturbed. "Yes…Anakin and I came up with a plan last night. We think it might work…" he trailed off, blind eyes sliding over Mace's shoulder as if he could still see things.

Mace went silent, recognizing the tingle that traveled up his spine and the way hairs stood up on the back of his neck. They still had their instincts, and ways of observations. The Sith may have been able to take the force from them but they could not take years of experience and traditional teachings.

Skills faded, but knowledge was forever. He dared not turn or look about for the person who had suddenly appeared. He had no clue who it was, it may have been nothing, but he did not take the chance.

It could mean certain death or punishment for them all. He glanced down at Yoda, a last communication.

Without word, Nava, Intrepid and Ahsoka gave them a meaningful glance before walking separate ways so that it no longer looked as if they were conspiring. There had been a few times when the secret…_._

_Missions_ the enslaved ones kept amongst themselves had almost been discovered by the Sith, and it had nearly ended in catastrophe. But never had they been discovered yet.

Mace intended to keep it that way. "The outside of their prison is ray shielded, and then locked by ten inch thick metal doors, code locked," Obi-wan whispered to him as he went past, perfectly balanced and somehow managing not to run into anyone within the cramped enclosure.

"Ahsoka has the code, compliments of Starkiller. We can go in and out as we please, but so forth they're stuck inside. I hope to bring them here this afternoon after we're excused from work," Mace nodded. There were things that needed to be discussed.

"If I know the Skywalker's, they'll find a way," he whispered back, glancing around. Never the matter the fact that he had not been outside of the Sith palace in seven years, he knew that the sun was at its zenith of dawn.

Soon the Sith would come in for the morning clean off. He squeezed Obi-wan's shoulder as he went past.

"Obi-wan," he spoke, his whisper hidden and obscured by the daily morning chatter. "After all this time, and all that has happened…Do you still believe that he is the Chosen One?" he asked. Because Mace Windu had observed, on more than one occasion, the strong bond between Kenobi and Skywalker.

This was the man who knew him best, and also had known Qui-gon Jinn best. Even if they were not allowed to touch the Force, Mace did not doubt it was still with them, and that meant that Obi-wan's skills of premonition and faith were still unbridled. If Mace trusted anyone in this universe, he trusted Obi-wan most of all. His word was always true.

Obi-wan gave the question genuine thought. In that time, his heart hammered in his rib cage as if it wanted to be free if the answer was no. As if it were tired of beating. At times, Mace knew it was, _he_ was.

But there had been one hope that he had clung too, along with many of the other Jedi, since the start of the Clone War. No matter what had happened, or what the future and present held in store they had always been able to find solace in the past, and the prophecy. After a moment, Obi-wan nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes," was the answer he gave, which made Mace's shoulders unwind if only for the tiniest of moments. Now it was Obi-wan's turn to lay a hand on his shoulder. He did so gravely.

"I don't know the Force's will, brother…But I know this; everything happens for a reason. Anakin is here now because now is the Force's choosing. There will always be peace in the end," these very words were the ones the Sith had tried, in all their overestimated power hungry ways, to prove wrong to them.

They had taken their home, their freedom, their dignity and history…Yet those were material things. That was the one thing the Sith would never understand about people like Obi-wan, and Yoda and Anakin and Mace; that they didn't _need_ those things nor, did they particularly want them overmuch.

They had knowledge, and the Force, and each other.

More than enough for them.

He nodded, feeling a bit more light at heart than he had felt the night before. This road would be long, but like all the days before this, he was determined to wake each morning and still tell himself that he could do this.

"Right," he gave Obi-wan a light push. "Away with you then," he dismissed him. Obi-wan gave a wan smile over one shoulder, before he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Mace alone to gather what remained of his thoughts.

Thoughts of freedom.

* * *

Hey guys, I finished the book! Whoo hoo! Now I don't have to worry about how much I'm posting because its sort of...Well.._.Huge,_ but that's okay, right? I'm on to the next book, then. And thank you so much to everyone who stays with me and reviews still. It really does mean a lot to me.

~QueenYoda


	19. Entertainment

~Padme's POV~

Padme did not allow herself the luxury of feeling sorry for herself after the others exited. Nor did she allow her family to feel likewise.

"Well," she decided with finality when she noticed the three of them staring desolately at the door as if they each were conspiring of various ways to knock it down and free the slaves then and there.

"Time to get busy. Luke, Leia, help me drag these beds back into place. Anakin, attempt to eat something. I assume Sidious will come soon,"' she ordered. Anakin turned to give her a dry smile. "Yes, general," he replied, with a salute. Padme smiled, ignoring the ache in her heart that the habitual twinkle in his eyes were missing.

He was worried. "I know there nothing we could have done," Leia mumbled, eyes on the floor, face flushed with incandescent rage. "But somehow, I feel as if I've failed them all over again all the same," she mumbled truthfully.

Padme knew that deep down; she felt the same. "No, I think I'm feeling that. You're just furious," Luke contradicted, with a humorless smile.

"I think you both are too much like me and need to start taking after your mother more," Anakin put his opinion in, arms crossed over his chest as if seeking to rid himself of the cold. "And besides, its not as if they _need _us, twins. They've been slaves here seven years, you see they have survived, spirits intact. I know it doesn't feel right, but for the moment we need to sit tight, be patient and play our cards right or we'll never save anyone," he told them, with determination if not sadness.

"And be careful of your anger Leia," he added, turning to their daughter sternly. "The Dark Side is strong, and manipulative. It feeds off your anger and fear. Clear your mind, young one," he cautioned. Leia gazed at him defiantly for a moment; the blaze in her eyes was unlike that which Padme had never seen before. The new surge of fury she saw in usually compassionate brown eyes frightened her. Force, could the twins handle living in this dreadful place for too long?

As if she had sensed her fear, and found herself in it, the blaze in those eyes died. Leia bowed her head. "Yes. I am sorry," she said softly. Anakin put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, but before he could say anything the sound of footsteps outside of the door made all of them jump. Padme looked up, scowling as the doors slid open to grant Darth Sidious and Darth Vader unwelcome entrance into the room.

Sidious' eyes swept the room calculatingly, almost boredily. Then, slowly, a smile slithered across his features as if his lips were actually snakes. Padme shivered when she saw his eye slight up with understanding.

"Ah…I see you've gotten reacquainted with your friends," he observed pleasantly. Padme was hard pressed to school her expression into one of indifference, belying nothing. Anakin turned and stepped up as if he were close to throttling the Sith, but did no such thing. Not that Padme wouldn't have loved the show.

"Good morning, my apprentice," Sidious greeted him, cheerful for all the pain he had caused, eyes sliding past his broad shoulders to rest briefly on Padme, then on her children. The g twinkle of greed in his eyes made her step forward protectively, shielding them from his view.

She was rewarded with a look of pure mocking arrogance before Sidious turned back to Anakin, who was just a bit too stiff to be truly calm. "Come, my dear boy. Your training begins," he said, and without even a backward glance at her, the woman who had gotten him elected as chancellor in the first place, or given him emergency powers, left the room, his long cloak billowing behind him with such an ostentatious show of false power that Padme snorted aloud.

She could almost see Anakin trembling not to turn around and say anything to t hem, words that would only break all of their hearts when he followed Sidious out, Vader silently bringing up the rear.

_Be safe, Ani,_ Padme sent after him, knowing that he heard the thought, and hoping that he would follow her advice, or if he didn't then she hoped the thought would give him the strength that he needed to succeed. The door closed behind them, leaving a stained silence after. The sort of silence that engulfs people when a tornado ravages homes, or when they are staring at the aftermath of years of cruelty.

After the storm, staring at the damage sort of silence.

Padme wondered what damage would have been done at the end of all this, if a suitable end would even be found. But hopelessness was not her way, and not the way she ran the family either. "Well," Luke said. "I don't see why we need to remain in here all day, packed inside with nowhere to go. Father will be busy with him and the others busy with their duties….So a little recon sounds nice," he planned with all the authority that followed after his father with ease.

"Get to know the place," Leia agreed, relatively calmer. "Okay," Padme agreed, grinning at the tracks of their thoughts, at the bravery that came so easily to these two children. They were Jedi indeed, through and through, temptation aside.

"I like the sound of that, but how are we going to get out? I don't suppose you both are able to pick the lock and just haven't said anything have you?" She wondered inquisitively.

"Father never taught us how to pick locks with the force. He was afraid we'd use it for the wrong reasons, like to get into the cookie cabinet or something," Luke informed her, rolling his eyes at the pure _truth _of this assumption.

Anakin had been wise to forbid them such knowledge before they reached real maturity, but now, they were still at an impasse.

She huffed, gazing around with a keen eye. There had to be some way out of this homely cell that fashioned itself also as a prison. "Hey, Leia," Luke suddenly blurted, having been searching as well, though Padme had an idea that he had used the Force.

Sometimes she_ really_ wished she were force sensitive.

"Do you remember how we escaped Order 66 aboard the Resolute?" he asked, slyly, as he gazed at the ceiling with a devilish smile. Leia's brow crinkled thoughtfully. "Yeah. We used the…" Leia's voice trailed off as she followed her brother's eyes, and suddenly grinned giddily.

"Luke, you're a genius," she giggled. Padme looked up herself, curiously, and could not help but grin when she saw the metal duct.

Sidious was going to regret giving them good air soon.

"The vents?" she asked, cocking a curious brow at them, wondering if they could still fit inside of the compact structures. They had grown quite a lot since they were five years old. "The vents," Luke snickered meeting her gaze. They both looked to Leia, who's smile had definitely turned almost vengeful now. "_The vents,"_ she hissed.

* * *

~Anakin's POV~

Anakin was more than just a bit irritated by Vader's breathing. He was struggling to remain compassionate. After all, he had been the one to leave the Sith there on the lava bank on Mustafar all those year prior.

It was his own fault that Vader was confined to his black suit, and honestly, Anakin did regret that.

He pitied this man, because never again would he see the beautiful rays of the sun, or touch another person with his own hands. He would see red, and breathe with pain, and walk and feel with pain for the rest of his life, which hadn't been all that great without the suit anyway.

He tried to hold unto those thoughts. Those thoughts befitted a Jedi. That compassion as what Qui-gon would have agreed with, if only he would_ talk_ to Anakin and give him a clue of what to do.

Honestly, though, the very presence of the Sith that had found them on Tatooine, had murdered Beru and Owen, had threatened Shantra's life was bad enough, but did he really have to_ breathe_ so kriffing loud down Anakin's neck, too?

Following Sidious compliantly down the hall, where he could so easily just reach out and _crush _that tiny neck with his bare hands, was a torture Anakin knew Sidious was implementing purposefully. It irritated him, and especially since he knew of Qe-Azen. This Sith scum deserved to die, more than any villain Anakin had ever known.  
_Do it, Anakin,_ something dark and oily, something that slunk past his neck with the caress smooth as a kiss. _Do it, and kill him. You have the power._ _You can end this, all of it, right now._ But those were dark thoughts.

He would be patient. _I will wait until the Force bids me act. _He told himself, but also did not deny that some part of him, a large part, wanted to do exactly as the voice said. There had been too much pain already. Anakin wished he could halt it, then and there but there was too much at stake. "I'm glad you were able to see those closest to you again, Anakin," Sidious was saying, with all the grandfatherly wisdom he had used with Anakin during his reign as Chancellor.

"Because they are truly yours now. They are yours to command. The entire Order is. About time, if you ask me. You always were the most powerful out of any of them, and they always doubted you. Now you will be able to take your place as_ master_, where you should have been all this time," Anakin rolled his eyes. _Its my fault that they are here at all. if I had not been so stupid... _He used bravado to cover his guilt.

"Do you ever stop talking?" He wondered. "Or is my forced service to you just going to be one long and boring monologue about power? Isn't there anything else you have to do today?" he questioned. Vader growled behind him, for a moment halting the aggravating sound of him breathing. Anakin relished the moment. Sidious chuckled haggardly ahead of him.

"Yes, yes there is much to do today. You will do it with me. But every day I like to start my morning off with a _show_," he explained. "Don't tell me you're dragging me to see an opera recital," Anakin groaned, not liking the sound of this plan.

Sidious gave him an odd look over his shoulder but shook his head. "I think this whelp needs a lesson in manners," Vader sneered, breaking abruptly into the conversation. Anakin stopped dead in his tracks and swiveled around. Calm as could be, stalling for time, he spread his arms challengingly. "Teach me then," he replied without any fear or anger in his stance.

To his surprise, Vader did not move. He met the deep globular black eyes without emotion, feeling as if he could see past t hem he would see the eyes of a devil. "Now, now children you mustn't squabble over my attention," Sidious's sarcastic voice reached them. Anakin snorted, about to tell Sidious to get over himself when suddenly he was engulfed in a storm of force lightning.

Crying out in pain, it had been seven years since he had last felt the devastating effects of Sith lightning, and his body did _not _agree with it, he dropped to his knees as he felt as if his muscles were being fried from his bones. An eternity passed, and at length the torment stopped. Anakin dropped to his hands and knees, gasping.

"Don't test Lord Vader, please, Anakin," Sidious requested cordially, wiping his hands on his garments as if expelling lightning had burned him glared at him, quivering with rage, which was barely held in check. _Cool it Anakin; take a breath. He's just trying to make you angry,_ he counseled himself, with a deep breath. _Lesson one_, he thought. _Never turn my back on Sidious. _Had he been thinking clearly he would have known that already.

"Let me be clear, Anakin; you are mine now. No matter your illusions, fed to you by those Jedi, I have little doubt; you are officially no more than any other slave to me. I could kill you if I wanted," Sidious told him calmly.

Anakin got to his knees, panting, looking up with defiance. "You wouldn't. For whatever reason, you have an obsession with me," he ground out.

Sidious lifted his chin with contempt. "I am _interested_ in you Anakin because your future is set in stone. I have seen it since the day of your birth, and besides, you are already trained to use the force, and have the seeds of the Dark Side planted in your heart. But I will suffice to take your children, if you fail me," he hissed.

"I have only to kill you and that bothersome senator…They would be easier to control, I figure," he stated thoughtfully. Anakin felt a flash of terror streak through his heart. "Ah," Sidious nodded, as if he had just gotten back a test of his, and found the results satisfactory. "I sense your reluctance in that matter. I would suggest you not aggravate my Sith, then, as I predict you'll try," he said.

Anakin's jaw clenched. How_ dare_ this man threaten his family that way, how dare he reduce him to nothing more than a common slave, nothing more than another pawn in his sick game…. But he was. And that was what hurt the most. The fact that he _was_ a slave; was a pawn and this_ was_ Sidious's game.

Though, he wouldn't be Anakin if he didn't have the last word. "Nothing is set in stone, Sidious," he grumbled, getting back to his feet. A sickly smile, half pitying, half mocking, as Sidious chuckled.

"Ah, yes…The old aphorism. You have grown wiser, might I say. I think that, if nothing more, deserves a reward," Anakin did not desire any sort of reward from this madman. But he was surprised when Sidious suddenly took a small metal cylinder from beneath his cloak. His eyes widened when he recognized his lightsaber. Sidious held it out to him expectantly.

"You're actually giving me back my weapon?" he gasped, incredulous as he quickly used the force to snatch the tool, unwilling to touch Sidious with his own hands. He turned the weapon that had become his life in his hands, checking for any sign of tampering or damage, but found none.

"A master needs ways of exercising his authority," Sidious replied mildly. Anakin's hands tightened on the weapon, and he ignited it. Slowly, with a sickly sound that faintly resembled the harmonic buzz that had always accompanied the unsheathing of this ancient artifact, a red blade slid out. Anakin's heart skipped a beat as he gazed at the malicious scarlet of his new blade. They had taken out the crystal, and replaced it. Now his lightsaber was just a hunk of metal with an artificial heart.

He set his jaw. _It's just a thing, it's only a thing,_ he told himself over and over, but it wasn't. The lightsaber was the only real possession a Jedi was allowed. This weapon was his life. It had saved his life countless times, fought for him as a cherished friend. The crystals had sang to him a tune only he understood, the metal had been made for his hand alone.

It represented his oath, his honor, his victories and failures. The wars he had fought, the times the blade had shook as he held it to the face of the man he would kill, or it had slipped from his grasp as he had feared for a loves ones life. This weapon was the sum of his life as a Jedi, and Sidious had desecrated it. It was a struggle not to sock the Sith across the face.

"Well?" And then he had the nerve to ask that. Anakin looked up to see Sidious studying his face intently, obviously looking for the emotions that normally inhabited the plains. But years of leading spy intelligence and raising two perceptive children had lent him the skill of blocking all emotion from face and force signature.

"Where are the real crystals?" he asked tunelessly. "Destroyed," Sidious replied promptly. "You have no more need of them. That is your blade now. You should be honored," _oh, I feel honored alright. _"It will do. Didn't you say we're going to see a show of some sort?" Anakin decided emotionlessly, stowing the weapon back on his belt.

It felt heavier, and so wrong that Anakin denied it as his own. This_ thing_ on his hip was_ not_ his lightsaber. "Yes. Come. I've called for them to wait for us," with that said, Sidious kept leading them down the halls, and through the destroyed corridors. Finally, they stopped in front of a set of doors that Anakin was relatively sure had never been there before.

The Dark Side swirled around the doors, calling, mocking and challenging him. _Aren't you sworn to the truth, Chosen one?_ The darkness taunted. _Well, then, face the truth. Go in, and see what has become of the Light's servants. See how it has abandoned them,_ Anakin gulped.

Sidious walked past him, contemptuously, and waved the doors open. Anakin followed him unto a small balcony. In the middle of this balcony, an over elaborated golden throne rested, made from the same force sensitive crystal which the Jedi mined beneath the palace.

Sidious seated himself in the throne with a heaving sigh, the inky blackness that was his clothes settling on the chair as if it were night personified wrinkling over fire. Anakin looked down into the cavern a few feet below, wrinkling his nose at the pungent smell of so many bodies in one place.

The Jedi slaves were all housed in one giant room. It was a box of magnificent proportions, the walls dull and lifeless metal, cold, desolate and colorless.

Anakin shook his head as he noticed the heads of several people whom he had slept beside only the night before below. Despite the enormous size of the cavern, Anakin could see as much as sense that there wasn't nearly enough room to accommodate them all.

They were packed together, shoulder to shoulder, barely a hands breath away from one another. For an order that had practiced the art of the most austere of minimal contact religions, this was a war crime.

He couldn't even see any of the floor past all the bodies crammed in one place, talking quietly, helping others up for the day, passively ignoring Sidious and Vader above as if this was normal behavior, as if they had never known a life other than this one.

Averting his eyes from the scene of obvious neglect, his eyes wondered to the walls above their heads, too high to be reached. In the walls, a door had opened. Four passages where in the doorways Sith stood, Anakin gawked at the hoses in their hands. What was Sidious _doing_?

"You don't expect me to have my slaves filthy, do you?" Sidious demanded; chin raised high as he gazed down at the slaves below with smugness. Anakin stared at him, realizing that whatever was about to happen, Sidious enjoyed it.

Lazily, Sidious made a hand signal to the Sith in the doorways, watching him keenly. "Alright!" Deathdera roared from her vantage point above, eyes flashing with boredom. "Strip down!" _What?_ Anakin inhaled sharply as below, the hundreds of force sensitive's obeyed, clothes fell to the ground and were flung collectively, into a corner, no matter the gender or species.

Face burning, he quickly averted his eyes, and heard only the sound of freezing water gushing down onto naked bodies, rinsing away dirt, sweat and soot. _They are getting hosed off, _Anakin realized, feeling vomit slither up his throat. _Like you would hose off animals in a pen. _

The idea made him feel weakly nauseated. He glanced at Sidious, and saw that his face was alight with appreciation as his eyes wandered over the nude bodies. Anakin's fists clenched, and he snapped his hands to his sides before they did as his first impulse was and gauged out the Sith's eyes.

"You're doing this to humiliate them," he mumbled, striving to remain calm amidst the occasional sound of a few of them below crying out in pain as the cold water hit exposed backs that were still sore with the scars of whippings. "Hmm, at first I did," Sidious replied absently.

_Calm, breathe, calm,_ Anakin told himself, his heart thudding in his chest, aching with pity for the people he loved. Force, he hoped none of them saw him up there. "But then, they became used to it. Now I merely come for,"- a cruel smile-"_the show_, as I put it to you. It's become my daily ritual," he told Anakin, as if talking about nothing more than his favorite holo net show.

Anakin felt as if he were going to be sick or he were going to kill someone at any moment. Even knowing that the slaves below probably counted this one of the few blessings they could have, being able to start a day clean, and that modesty had never been the Jedi Way, Anakin could not_ fathom_ the indignity of knowing that Sidious's eyes were on them.

Maybe that was why they all had their backs to him, eyes downcast as the water soaked through skin to gnaw at the bones. Anakin felt his eyes burn with rage. He shifted feet, searching desperately for a calm center. "You're _sick,_ and I suppose you're proud of it, aren't you?" he requested. His voice shook with disgust.

"I suppose you enjoy their suffering?" He ground out between clenched teeth. "As you will, in time, young Skywalker," Sidious chuckled softly. Anakin shook his head. "I've known many forms of slavery…But you…You're so deeply _ensnared _that its incomprehensible. Only a slave would be able to know what bothers another slave most," he pointed out tightly.

Sidious stiffened. "Did I not tell you _not_ to irritate others, my apprentice?" he asked softly, the threat clear in his voice. _Kill him, kill him now, he deserves it, _the Dark Side whispered, tugging him forward like a master tugs a stubborn dog after him on a leash.

The image caused him to have to take several more deep breaths. "I'm done with this," he growled, turning away from this example of demoralization. Vader stepped in his way."You are done when I say you…" Sidious began, but before he could finish, unable to take the sight of his casual roaming any longer, Anakin put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing _hard._

"And so are you, _master_," he spat; his skin tingled with a fury that threatened to overcome him. He could feel the shoulder beneath his hand quiver with unsuppressed laughter."I can sense your anger, your hatred, your _disgust_…You hate me, don't you?" Sidious closed his eyes as if savoring the most wonderful of bliss's.

Anakin forced himself to relax before he spoke. Wrestling with his emotions, battling against the anger that threatened to drown him, he released it into the force little by little before he spoke.

"No, I don't hate you. You're a victim, and a slave. I hate the evil inside of you that compels you to do such things," he lied with a firmness that he didn't really feel. He did hate Sidious. In his heart, he could not deny that. After all this man had done? Anakin dared any philanthropist, no matter how good, heck, he dared the Light Side itself not to hate any person that had done the things Sidious had!

Anakin hated him with a fire inside of him that was unquenchable, with such a might that it could crush his own heart if he let it. He had never _hated_ any as much a she hated the man next to him.

But Sidious heard none of that in his voice, and thus Anakin felt his own anger flare as Sidious turned to stare at him with narrowed eyes. "I see I will have to work harder with you, young Skywalker," was the only answer he would give, before he stood to his feet, and with a hand signal, ended the washing below. Anakin was not sure if he should count this as a good or bad thing, but he didn't have time to find out.


	20. Love thy brother, protect thy love

~Luke's POV~

"Luke, have I already mentioned that you're a genius?" Leia asked cheerily as they watched their mother drop silently to the floor, with an experience and fluidness that belied her age.

"Yeah…But if you want to keep saying it, I wouldn't mind," Luke answered casually. Leia gave him a dry grin and shook her head. "Glory hound," she muttered but without a real bite.

She was more cheerful now that they had something to do that kept their minds off the Dark Side that seemed content to mock them with their deepest fears and griefs.

_I wonder if that is another reason Sidious had us locked up, _Luke thought. _So that we would have nowhere to go and nothing else to do but ponder the lies of the Dark Side and let it cloud our vision,_ he shook his head at this thought, reflecting that it was exactly the sort of thing Sidious would do.

"Well," their mother sighed, dusting herself off as Leia used the Force to close the vents above. It was best that for the moment no one would know that they could do that... Including their father.

"A bit of a tight fit, but I managed. Your father isn't going to be happy when he hears about _this,"_ she chirped, not at all concerned. Luke looked both ways down the hall, listening closely for any noise and stretching his senses out wider.

Due to the fact that he and Leia were using their bond to hide both the Force signatures of themselves and their mother, leaving them vulnerable to the Dark Side, and drained of some of their natural perceptive power, they would not be able to sense everyone that came down the hall, and especially if the Sith were already shielding.

They needed to be especially vigilant on this day. "So, where are we going first?" Leia asked softly. "We should avoid anywhere that has slaves, or an over abundance of Sith," Luke suggested reasonably. "I wantto go find my lightsaber," Leia told them, fiery determination in her eyes.

"Too risky," their mother decided, with a wave of her hand and stern look to quell Leia's protest. She put her hands on her hips, thinking. Luke gazed around, wondering what this place must have looked like before the Sith had completely obliterated it. How could such a destroyed place have ever been beautiful?_ During the war, was it beautiful or stifling?_ Luke wondered.

"We can't go to any information centers without getting caught. Nor can we find your sabers or the thing that prevents the others from using the Force," she said with regret. Luke stared at his mother wondering how she knew that the others were being blocked from the Force.

Padme gave him an impish grin. "Mother's intuition, son. You wouldn't get it," she teased him. Luke smiled back, wanly. "I guess not," he agreed. "The hangar bays are off limits. The communication centers, the Archives…" She muttered, then, still pondering.

"What about salvage?" Leia piped in. "For when we escape. I bet there is still a bunch of stuff here from before when the Sith trashed the place. We could scavenge through the resident halls and try to find anything really, for the new order," she suggested.

Luke nodded in agreement. "I would love to get my hands on some old pilot's tricks," he said, looking to their mother, who nodded at last. "Great idea. We can hide them back at the quarters. Small way to help, but everything counts. After that we'll see if we can find…"

She got no further before Leia suddenly grabbed her mother's hand and hurriedly yanked her along after, Luke following.

The Force rang with warning as they crouched behind a corner at the end of the hall. "What is it?" Padme whispered urgently, hands going to her waist belt as if her blasters were still there.

"Stormtroopers," Leia growled darkly, peeking round the corner. Luke peeked his own head out and gasped when he recognized two familiar figures. "They have Threepio and Artoo! They're okay!" he cried, relieved to find his old friend unharmed. "Interesting. I was just about to suggest we locate them," their mother snorted sarcastically.

"Luke," Leia said his name softly. To any regular person, this random calling of his name would have been odd, but they had lived through odder things.

Luke looked at her, attuned to all of her tones of voice. "Don't you sense it? It's them," she whispered, eyes growing dark and hard as she glared at the two Stormtroopers stonily. Luke cocked his head digging into the Force, and felt his fury flare when he identified the two Force signatures.

"Rex and Cody," he growled. Those double crossing traitors had the droids! "Okay," Padme muttered. "Luke, Leia, here's the plan..." but either his twin sister didn't hear, wasn't listening or plain ignored their mother (as usual) because Leia tore from behind their hiding place with all the swiftness of a fleeting shadow.

"Leia!" Padme hissed. Luke gave a half shrug. It was only the two Stormtroopers. Nothing they couldn't handle. Without waiting for the harsh indictment from their mother, Luke dashed after his twin.

Before either Rex or Cody could notice the fury stricken Force sensitive younglings coming at them, Leia had slammed both men into the wall, and held them with a Force grip string enough to break bones.

"Double crossing kriffing sleemos!" She hissed, her revenge now close at hand. Luke laid a restraining hand on her shoulder, turning to the droids. "Well," Padme commented dryly as she came from hiding. "That's one way to do it, I suppose," she sighed.

"Leia?" Rex gasped, sounding very close to fainting from shock as he stared at her. He did not seem particularly worried that she had him trapped against the wall like a stuffed animal.

"Kid?" Cody added, sounding very much the same. "What are you doing out here? How did you get out of those quarters?" One of them demanded. Luke frankly did not care which one of them had said it. He knelt and laid his hands on Artoo's wheels as the droid squealed with joy. Good, they hadn't been tampered with yet.

"Oh, master Luke! How glad I am to see you!" Threepio cried. "Yeah. You guys okay?" Luke asked. Artoo let out a confirming bweep that Luke took as a yes. Nodding, he stood, unconsciously positioning himself protectively before the droids, gazing contemplatively at the clones currently stuck to the walls. Now that they had the droids, what would they do with them?

"We're at an impasse," Padme agreed, apparently doing her mom mind reading thing again. "I guess so. I have a suggestion, why don't you put us down?" Rex suggested, calmly.

"Not a chance," Leia growled. Luke shook his head slowly, listening for the Force's will. _Leia, listen_, he said through their bond, unwilling to let the Stormtroopers know of his reluctant thoughts. _They're afraid, but not of us. __**For **__us. They still care, _he pointed out to her. He felt the burst of realization at the same time as she.

Leia gave no sign of this away however, as she responded lightly "I don't trust you," in regard to Rex's suggestion that they be set free. "Wait, Leia, you don't understand…" Rex began, only to be interrupted by Luke.

_"__Understand_? We understand plenty. We understand thatthe Jedi and the Rebels trusted you, and you betrayed all of us. You slaughtered the very people who had striven to keep you alive; and you trapped them all in space to get exterminated. And for what? What did Sidious offer you, huh, _Rexster_?" he inquired tartly, the old nickname coming from his mouth as if it were acid.

The Stormtroopers were silent a moment, still pushed against the wall by Leia. At length, Rex answered. "He could have offered us the galaxy, kid," he said quietly, through his helmet.

Luke could hear the sincerity in his voice. "And none of us would have wanted it. You don't understand. We didn't have a choice during Order 66…And now, well, I tried to warn you when I saw the droids on Tatooine," he let out a humorless laugh. "Vader didn't much like that," he replied.

Luke exchanged a glance with Leia. Were they telling the truth? "What do you mean Order 66 wasn't your fault? You _chose_ to pull the trigger on all those Jedi," Padme piped in interrogatively, dark eyes hard as she gazed at the incapacitated men.

"True," Cody agreed mildly. "But note how there was one escape pod left that could only have accommodated four people. Who do you think did that?" he wondered, somehow without accusation or smugness.

Luke inhaled sharply, remembering back seven years when Master Windu had looked up, haunted by the recent events, and told their father to go, and take them too. Luke would never get the expression of stark horror that had flitted across his father's face out of his mind's eye.

"And we appreciate it," their mother spoke up, icily, the memory obviously within her as well. "But the fact still remains- you both are traitors to democracy. And to Anakin," she sneered.

Luke sensed rather than saw Rex flinch as if he had been struck. "Anakin. Yeah. But still, you don't understand…Uh, I don't suppose you would be willing to at least put us down now, would you Leia?" Rex asked, looking pointedly at them from his perch against the wall.

"No," was Leia's automatic answer, which Luke could not have spoken more simply himself. "Leia," Padme scolded, crossing her arms firmly. Their mother believed firmly in equality, even if it was towards two traitors.

Reluctantly, hearing the stern reprimand in store if Leia disobeyed, the Stormtroopers were slowly lowered to the ground. Luke heard them exhale in relief when their feet touched the ground.

He tensed, well are that they still had their blasters, and despite all, the two men before them were stronger than any of them there. Despite this, the Stormtroopers showed no signs of attacking, but rather Rex and Cody took their helmets off, and gazed upon them fondly for a moment.

Luke looked up into warm brown eyes and felt himself gulp. He remembered that soft gaze from his childhood. Once, it had made him feel special, feel_ safe_, capable and worthy.

But Rex had snatched those feelings away when he had deserted them, had abandoned and betrayed them to their death. Luke Skywalker had loved the clones, and particularly this clone, which had been present since the start of his birth. And deeper down, he acknowledged that he may even have missed Rex over the years.

_He does not deserve your consideration, young Luke,_ the Dark whispered in his ears, riding the waves of his anger. _He deserves death. His betrayal is why you're family is here, as slaves, instead of with you safe. He is the enemy. Destroy him._ Luke's hands trembled with their itching want to follow the decree of the Dark Side.  
He had underestimated its power before. The Dark Side did not just whisper to him, it showed and _stroked_ him like an old friend, as if it had been there all along, it enhanced his anger until he could see with a sharper awareness than usual, could smell Rex's sweat and a bone deep conviction of guilt ran in his veins, riding aboard the midi chlorians. The Dark Side of the Force did not seem too bad in these moments.

It would be so easy just to reach out with the Force and slowly watch the life bleach from those darkened figures. This time, it was Leia who pulled _him _back from the edge of something regrettable. She put a hand on his shoulder, without turning fully, and squeezed.

"Focus," she directed softly, and Luke nodded past the migraine of urges building within him. He felt as if his psyche was under attack, and the stronghold was falling rapidly into enemy hands. Rex glanced at him with a flash of worry. Cody did not seem to notice or either ignored the exchange.

"Like we were saying," Cody continued matter of factly. "Order 66…there was some sort of implant is our heads, a chip of some sort. We never noticed it, never knew it was there. But it activated under a Code word," Cody scowled fiercely, cringing.

"I don't know what it was…None of us thought it particularly odd when all of our comm. Links rang at the same time. We all heard it. Sidious said Order 66… After that, we lost control of our bodies. It was as if something was controlling us, making us angry enough to move forward without conscious thought," Cody and Rex both shivered in unison.

"Like we were puppets to our own body. Most of us blacked out from the pain of trying to fight it," Rex picked up again. "When everyone woke up, we were suddenly under the employment of the Empire; and most of us didn't remember a thing, it took us a few days to figure out why there was blood on our armor…" Leia inhaled sharply. Luke looked to their mother, wondering about the story.

Neither he nor Leia could get a feel of whether the Stormtroopers were telling the truth with the Force as muddled with darkness as it was. What did she think? "You fought beside Anakin for almost ten years," their mother began, slowly, but with no less of abhorrence that they had all secretly held for these men all these years.

"In that time, with all that happened and as many delegations of researchers the Senate sent to Kamino- I'm pretty sure we would have detected if the Sith put a chip in your heads," she pointed out. Rex gave a weary half shrug. "Why?" he countered.

"We're just clones, remember? Not overly important. And no one ever really took the time to dig that thoroughly into how we were made, Padme. No matter what they told the Senate, they just took the Kaminoans word, and the Kaminoans just took the money," he said.

Luke scowled. The Clone Army had been bred before his birth, and he knew little about the entire process other than the stories his father and Obi had told him of the subject , and the talks his parents had had about them after they found their way to Tatooine. One thing he had known, though, was that the Kaminoans were known for their large pocket books, and their efficiency. And hadn't Sifo-Dyas, a former Sith, commissioned the construction of the Clone Army? In league with Dooku?

Was it possible that all that time, the clones really had been bugged? "You weren't just clones to _us_!" Leia burst out, insistent. "To me and Luke and father and…And the Jedi! You weren't just clones! You were our_ brothers_!" She cried, fists clenching. "It's because of you that this has happened! It's because of you that Sidious _won_!" She hissed.

Neither Rex nor Cody looked aghast at this statement. They seemed only weary, as if they had heard this a thousand times before in a thousand different voices. As if they had told themselves that since the day it happened, every night and morning. For a moment, Luke felt old pity stir in his heart.

The clones had never asked for anything, had not been born with a choice in what they wanted. In a way, the clones had been enslaved to the Republic, under the jurisdiction of the Jedi.

No matter how deeply the brotherly love Luke and Leia and the rest of them might have felt for these men, the fact had always remained, a barrier unbreakable between them: that Rex and Cody were just clones. Born to die for the Republic, existing only to serve their masters. "Yeah," Cody murmured. "I guess it is," he said.

"And we felt the same," Rex agreed, somberly, he gazed at them with infinite sadness. "That's why I it held off; I fought the impulse that day. And blacked out after because of it. I did it for_ you_, twins. Still, I can't blame you for not believing us," he muttered.

Leia's eyes blazed, yet Luke saw that they were also wet. Padme crossed her arms and set her jaw as if trying to stop it from trembling. The sadness that hung off these men, similar to the sadness that hung from every one of Sidious's slaves, touched them deeply.

They were in the same boat. "We're here now though, and as far as we know the chips are inactive. We've done every little thing we can to help the Jedi over the years, and if you'll let us," Rex's voice cracked. Luke struggled to ignore the impulse to comfort that assaulted him naturally.

They were the enemy. It was lies. All lies. The clones had betrayed them. No matter how much Luke loved Rex-he couldn't deny that part for anything. Not even a wavering voice. "We'd like to serve you again," Cody finished for his brother, chin held high.

The scales of condemnation and forgiveness were weighed, the sins and deeds put on two different ends. Luke closed his eyes briefly. He so wanted to be angry. He wanted to send Rex and Cody away now; he wanted to kill them for what they had done.

The _devastation_ they had wrought on his family. Luke wanted revenge for the nights he had heard his mother sobbing and the afternoons his father had come home from the shrine site with eyes red from weeping. And it would not be wrong, from a certain point of view.

They deserved it, both of these clones, and all the others here who had spilled innocent blood and condemned good people. Finally, studying her face into rigid passivity, their mother reached a verdict before they could themselves. "Let's go twins," Padme decided, as she turned away. Her dark chestnut eyes were uncompromising in their condemnation.

Leia, eyes glittering with hatred, turned away and started following Padme down the hall. Artoo and Threepio hurriedly stumbled after. Luke took in a shuddering breath and trailed his mother and sister, still feeling as if he were making a mistake…

Closing his eyes, tentatively, he reached out to the force, aware of the Dark Side, and burrowed down until under the years of turmoil and death he found the Light, still blissfully intact beneath the scarred layers. He felt as if he had been hit with a burst of sunshine. Behind him, he could sense both Clone's sorrow, their guilt and self-loathing…

And he could sense that they had told the truth, all of it.

Luke's eyes snapped open. He halted in mid-stride, heart near to bursting. It seemed that he was being reunited with more of his family today. "Wait," he commanded with the Force's voice.

His mother and Leia turned around, eyeing him inquisitively. Luke ignored their stares and turned around to gaze at his older brother's, who had begun walking the opposite direction, steps laggard and heavy.

"Rex," Luke called softly, unable to shout past the lump in his throat. His eyes burned with tears. It had been far too long since he had said that name with anything but bitterness, and pain.

It had been too long since he had spoken the name of his brother.

At his beckoning, both men turned around, soft chestnut eyes large and glittering with tears in the light. Luke shook his head slowly, bottom lip quivering.

Forgetting his age, and the fact that a Jedi was not supposed to give into unseemly behavior, he took one faltering step forward, knees trembling, as if wading through deep mud. Then he took another, and still more until he was running.

Rex had already knelt on one knee by the time Luke made it to him. Luke threw his arms around Rex's neck, hanging on tightly. "I missed you, Rex," he choked out, because it was the truth, and the Jedi were tied to the truth like a ship anchored to dock.

Rex grabbed the back of his head, fingers digging into his hair with a gentleness that the dispensable were not supposed to know. "I missed you too, kid," Rex replied as Luke pressed his cheek against the warm shoulder pad of his armor. Luke could sense his mother and Leia standing back, surprised at his sudden outburst, still wary of the clones.

Separating from Rex, he looked up at them. "Leia, look deeper…Into the Light. You can sense they're telling the truth," his eyes swiveled to his mother. "And even if they weren't, does one big mistake zero out the hundreds of other little victories they've made for justice?" He asked.

Padme narrowed her eyes at him while Leia scowled ferociously. Luke met their gazes squarely, feeling the knot of anger finally dissolving into the first drops of forgiveness. Cody, kneeling their side, raised a hand of invitation to whichever one would come first.

Luke knew that it was only the trust Leia had in him that propelled her to look into the Light-and see past her emotions to the truth.

Shaking her head slowly incredulously, she started to walk forward with the same brokenness of limb that he had displayed until she had run straight into Cody's arms, letting out hiccuping sobs, clinging to him as a little sister clings to a big brother who had been at war for much too long but now had returned home.

"Hey, it's okay now Leia. It's okay. Stars, I thought you were gonna strangle me for a minute there," Cody joked, holding her at arm's length. Leia snorted and smiled wanly. "Nah, you aren't worth my Force power, Cody. You are just a clone after all," she teased back. Cody chuckled a bit brokenly. "I see you haven't changed much, still our little spit fire. The others will be glad to see you again," he murmured.

Luke smiled at his mother, who watched these proceedings thoughtfully. "Padme?" Rex reached out a hand, almost imploringly, to the woman who had knitted them extra sets of shoulder pads to ease aches, and had joked and teased them at the best of times, and listened to their stories and moans at the worst, with eyes that could melt souls.

Majestically, with perfect control, their mother walked up; face expressionless to stand over the four. Luke looked up at her unsympathetic eyes nervously. At last, after gazing in to all four sets of eyes without emotion, their mother sighed. "You helped destroy my family," she said quite clearly. Luke and Leia gulped in unison. Rex's hand faltered.

Suddenly, their mother smiled, and reached out to grab hold of the offered pact of peace. "But thousands of times before that, you helped bring my Anakin home to me safely. For that, I will never cease caring for you," she said. Luke grinned as Rex replied to that by yanking their mother down into a four-part hug. It seemed this was the day for reunions.

* * *

_**Later:**_

~Ahsoka's POV~

There were times when the Sith who played the part of slave drivers decided to be lazy, and didn't exactly start checking to see if all of their slaves were in the places they were supposed to be right away.

What with the excitement of having Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi Chosen One, under the control of Darth Sidious and now on their side the Sith had been given much to gossip about, and thus paid little attention to the slaves.

This disregard would not last long, they were Sith after all, but if Ahsoka could gain at least just _ten minutes_ of relaxation she could count herself blessed. Thus, when she received a brief nod of consent from Starkiller at the quietly spoken request of release, Ahsoka Tano dashed from the small room where the Sith let Jedi women cater to them.

Nimbly, she made her way through the abandoned halls of the palace to a location that had once been her favorite hang out spot with her friends back in the days of the Clone wars.

So long ago now, how things had changed. Nevertheless, her destination, The South Wing Staircase, had been virtually unused even in the prosperous days of the Republic. Anakin had showed it to her.

When it _was _in use, it was used mostly for one reason: privacy. When a youngling was studying for a test, and wanted quiet, they would come to the staircase, or when two friends wanted to speak without the strictures of formality, they came to the staircase.

It had been, true to its name, a long and lonely flight of steep stairs that could have transcended the length needed to reach the fourth floor on the skyscrapers all around Courascant.

The steps were of stone, and having gone unnoticed by the Sith, the thick green foliage still grew on the sides, protecting the steps from intruding eyes elsewhere. The steps were still covered with the vivid orange leaves that had fallen from trees overhead, now dead. The small babbling brook nearby had run dry, but the foliage still provided ample cover. The Southern Staircase provided type of silence that was so loud that it was deafening, and thus the best sort of silence.

Ahsoka could not say she was surprised-or unhappy-when she saw a lone, hunched figure sitting on the sixteenth step below, obviously deep in thought. The steps were lopsided, aged with time and half invisible what with all the leaves covering them.

Ahsoka smiled gently when she noticed Jinx. It appeared the mine slavers were also too busy lagging their tongues to pay any attention to their workers. It wouldn't last long, but it was long enough.

Silently, she crept down the steps to lay a hand on his right broad shoulder. Jinx Zadya jumped beneath her palm and swiveled around; half tensed to flee. When he saw it was Ahsoka, he smiled jadedly, dark turquoise eyes flashing. "Hey," he greeted softly, voice hoarse from the dust of the mines.

Ahsoka knelt behind him, massaging the kinks from his shoulders gently. "Hey," she said back, softly, unwilling to break the spell of magic. "The masters are going easy on us today, aren't they?" Jinx said, by way of starting the conversation.

Resigned to his fate, knowing that any attempt at telling her that she didn't need to massage his tense shoulders would result in an argument that only wasted the only free time they had, Jinx endured her silent carping with equanimity.

To an outsider, the way she catered to him, and the way the air was suddenly silent about them, accentuating his tiredness and her thoughtfulness, the moment may have seemed very intimate. But that was the way of the Jedi nowadays. "Yes they are, and thank goodness, I'm a little tired of scrubbing Sith feet," Ahsoka said with a snort.

Jinx snorted. "I knew you'd amount to something of that importance one day, Tano," he replied. Ahsoka slapped the back of his head playfully, eliciting a vague smile. It was rare the days that Jinx actually laughed.

Usually, exhaustion was a firm factor in that equation, however beyond that Jinx had an aura about him that was always slightly…Sad. Granted, he had lost both his sword brother, O'mer, and his master, Aayla Secura, seven years before.

Despite this evident aura, Jinx complained even less than he laughed. It wasn't in him to complain. Bitter statements full of sarcasm and disturbing scornfulness were to be expected, but Intrepid had remarked that Jinx had that same inner strength and selflessness that Obi-wan did, an endless reservoir. Ahsoka agreed wholeheartedly.

"Shut up, Jinxy-boy," she said back, using his old nickname. "I haven't seen you in awhile," Jinx said, cringing as she loosened one tight knot. "Does Starkiller have you on night call?" The question was rhetoric. There were many slaves, not all who had been Force users, who were on 'night-call,' for the Sith…

Men or women, it hardly mattered. If they had an attraction to you, you might find yourself suddenly a bed warmer for the night. Yet Starkiller either did not believe in this practice, or just didn't use Ahsoka for it. And his own claim on her and Intrepid saved her from the attentions of any others. Still, Ahsoka could hardly blame Jinx for worrying.

"Not in his dreams," she sorted. "I have other…Duties to attend too after the work is done, unlike _you_, slacker," Jinx needed not the rest of the explanation. He knew she was one of the leaders of the spies for the rebellion. Whenever a slave had some news that might aid the Rebels, they always went to her.

"And last night I had to sneak the others in to see the Skywalkers," she muttered. Jinx's head snapped up, his wide eyes searching her face as if he suspected she were lying. "Then the rumors are true? The Sith found them? Anakin's working for Sidious?" he demanded, aghast.

Ahsoka agave a helpless shrug. "Well, the rumor about them being caught is true alright. They're being kept in our old quarters," She couldn't help but smile feebly at the memory of the twin's delighted faces.

"Force, Jinx, you remember Luke and Leia, don't you?" She asked. Jinx snorted. "The creators of the Rescue Bird? I'd be concerned about my mental health if I didn't remember them, sunshine," he grunted. Ahsoka laughed softly, thinking that the twins would be flattered to find he thought so.

"Well, they've grown quite a bit since when they were five. They're both_ twelve _now, Jinx," she told him. Jinx's eyes, if possible, widened further. "Twelve?" he repeated with over exaggerated incredulousness, as Ahsoka stood from her spot at his shoulders to sit beside him.

"Good force, we're getting old, Ahsoka," Jinx sighed, leaning back on his elbows. He swung his head around lazily to look at her, long head tails flowing behind him with all the sinuous grace of hair, which neither of them possessed. "You can say that again," Ahsoka agreed, shaking her head. Jinx looked up at the ceiling with thoughtfulness.

"Its been so long," he muttered. "Since they were born? I know. Think about it, we were only seventeen during the last battles, and I helped deliver them, even! And now…" She trailed off, seeing the melancholy glint in her friends eye had little to do with the twins.

"You're thinking," she stated, watching him curiously. "Yeah," Jinx shifted uncomfortably. "I'm thinking…We've been here seven years. Ahsoka…I haven't seen the sun, the_ real_ sun of Courascant, for seven years. Heck, we haven't been out of the palace for _seven years._ That…That's mind blowing. The Clone War didn't last half as long," he muttered.

Ahsoka nodded. "Its incredible to think we've made it this far, and stayed alive this long," she mumbled. "And now they're here," Jinx agreed, softly, his brow scrunching in thought. "Has Sidious hurt them?" he wondered.

Ahsoka gave a feeble shrug and absently studied the tiny skirt beneath her hands. "It didn't look so to me, but…he might. I don't know what's going on, Anakin said he'd explain this rumor of allegiance to Palpatine later. We're going to try to bring them tonight, to see the others,' she said.

Jinx gazed at her with concern. "Are they ready for that?" he asked cautiously. Ahsoka sighed and looked up, shaking her head slowly. Were they _ready_ to see what seven years of hard labor had done to the former brave soldiers of the Jedi Order? What had become of every force feeling sensitive group in the galaxy that studied and practiced the Light?

"It doesn't matter if they're ready or not," she said after a moment of pondering it. She knew that she wouldn't be ready if she did not live the reality every day. "They're here, and there is no going back," Jinx nodded, solemnly.

"Poor kids," he lamented, shaking his head as his eyes wandered down the steps as if he suspected that the Entire Order had slowly been tumbling down steps of their own. From the throne to the floor, and from the floor to the street, and from the street to the dirt.

Ahsoka wanted to say that they could do it; that they had to do it. But if there was one thing the past seven years had taught her; it was that the good died young. "Poor everyone. Anakin was infuriated to see us as slaves," she admitted to him, as she admitted most things.

There was little that Ahsoka did not tell Jinx. It seemed impossible to keep secrets from him. There was something about the Twi'lek's dark turquoise eyes, eyes that once been coal black, that inspired trust. Besides, she had seen Jinx at his best and worst, and he likewise.

They had a bond that was as strong as the one she shared with Intrepid and Lux. Only theirs was slightly different. More intimate somehow, more passionate rather than relaxed.

Ahsoka refused to think on the implications of this. "I suppose he was. I know I would be," another moment of silence passed. "How do you feel?" he asked. Ahsoka did not ask for clarification. She shrugged, helplessly. "I don't know, really," she mumbled.

"I was overjoyed to see them all again. It was as if…As if a great burden was taken from my shoulders when I realized that we were all actually together again. For the first time in seven years, Jinx, I actually thought maybe I could do this," she said.

"Do what?" Jinx inquired quietly. Ahsoka stared down at him with infinite weariness, but a spark of old hope that had long since abandoned her. Hope took energy, and strength. "Believe in freedom again," she replied. "Ah," Jinx did not question. He understood, as he understood most things pertaining to her. "But at the same time," she looked down at her hands, frustrated at her inability to describe this next feeling in detail.

"I am…Afraid, for them I suppose. Sidious is obsessed with my master and the prophecy, and the twins. He'll do whatever he can to get Anakin to turn, and…I'm not so sure he can't succeed. Not when he has us all in the palm of his hand. I don't know what they are going to do," she scowled.

"I guess that's why some part of me half wishes that Vader had never found them. They thought we were all dead, you know. Leia told me. They've thought for seven years that they were the only Jedi. It must have been lonely. But at least they were safer on Tatooine than here," Jinx nodded with understanding. "Well, at least they had the opportunity to just be kids, if only for awhile," he said, trying to cheer her.

Ahsoka smiled bitterly. "None of us have ever had the opportunity to be 'just kids,' my friend. I don't think we'll ever have that chance," the curse of being different marked one as growing up before their time had come.

"Fair enough," Jinx decided. He looked up, as if he had sensed something, as if they still could. "I don't think my leisure time will last much longer," he sighed, standing.

"I'd better start heading back…I'd like to leave at least two inches of skin on my back unscarred," he said. Ahsoka frowned, as she always did, thinking about him down in the mines. She had journeyed into the depths perhaps once or twice, but she had been able to easily see those few times that the place was a living hell. As if Jinx hadn't been hurt enough.

She stood with him. "Let me walk you back," she suggested, but Jinx shook his head firmly. "No. You still have a while left, I reckon, before you must return. No use in us both being deprived of rest," he suddenly grinned, teasingly, showing off sparkling white teeth.

"Even if one of us does deserve it more than the other," he joked. Humor was a crude shield, but a time honed one. She snorted and pressed closer, hands on her hips. "_Prove it_, Jinxy-boy," she growled, this being a private joke between them. "Fine," Jinx chuckled, eyes flashing. "I'll come back with a broken arm and then we'll see…"

"You'd better not," Ahsoka interrupted his dark humor, finding nothing funny about how serious Jinx was about it. Her friend chuckled softly, giving her cheek a fond pat.

"May the Force be with you, sunshine," he replied as a way of farewell. Ahsoka reluctantly screwed her face into a tight smile. "And you, Jinx," she said. For a moment, the hand on her cheek wavered but with immense determination, Jinx took his hand away and turned, disappearing back over the flight of steps. Ahsoka watched him go, and remained there alone and silent for a very long time.

* * *

I think you all can see that I ship Jinx and Ahsoka. Ever since the clone wars episodes that had the two together... I mean wasn't this just inevitable? Don't worry about Starkiller, he already has his destiny set, and Intrepid does as well. I do believe you'd be rather surprised at who I am going to set _them_ up with though. Next chapter is where we meet the newest additions to the Skywalker clan. ;D

~QueenYoda


	21. doe-twinkle

~Nava's POV~

Nava was the one who accompanied Obi-wan to transport Anakin and his family down to the other Jedi later that day, when night had already fallen over Courascant and the slaves were finally sent back to their quarters for the night before another endless day.

Nava stumbled suddenly, her weariness getting the better of her, only to have a strong arm reach out with the swiftness of a striking adder and catch her. Somehow, Obi-wan always knew when she was about to fall.

She smiled feebly, squeezed his hand in thanks, and kept going. They were old enough now so that conversation between them was not as important. There was little left to talk about.

Even with aching bones and joints that felt as if there were sand in them, these moments spent alone with her lover were cherished. And all the more so because now they had something to look forward too. Technically, she and Obi-wan were not supposed to be out at all.

After work was done, the slaves were habitually rounded up and stored down in the singular room that had become the common cramped space. That was why she never traveled these halls alone, what with Sith lurking everywhere, and without her use of the force, she could not sense when they were coming or if one was just around the corner.

Hence having Obi-wan along. Completely blinded by the stripping of force abilities, his hearing and sense of smell had heightened. If there was a Sith coming down these halls, then Obi-wan would know it before she did, and save them both from the punishment.

She glanced sidelong at the man at her side, noting his thoughtful expression. "You're preoccupied," she said quietly. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a small grin. "Am I so easy to read?" he asked. Nava snorted. Obi-wan had never been an open book…Around others. Nava had grown up with that expressionless face, and she knew it well.

"Of course you are. You are a horrible liar, my dear. What's on your mind?" They had learned, through difficult years as slaves, that keeping secrets from one another would only alienate them from each other swiftly. As such, Obi-wan did not try any of his evasive tactics.

There was little that they didn't talk about anyway, what with the few minutes they were granted each day…Except for the questions about why sometimes at night she would slip from beneath his embrace and have to follow a diminutive messenger from the Sith back into the bowels of the palace.

She never answered those questions, and fights erupted when he pushed the issue. Obi-wan Kenobi was many things, and a vengeful man he was not, had never been, but this was different, and they both knew it.

This was _her._

Best not to let him do something that would only get him killed. "I need you to escort Padme and the Twins to the others, quickly. The Twins should be able to sense any Sith nearby," he said bluntly.

She cocked a brow, smiling a bit. She already had a fair idea of where he was going. "And where are you and Anakin going? On a date?" she inquired. Obi-wan didn't deny it.

"Well, there's no need to be _jealous,_ dear," he quipped back, then answered good naturedly "I'm going to introduce him to Han, Lando and Chewie. After all, has he not been pestering us, along with that former apprentice of yours, about children for years?" he teased. Nava shivered at the mention of children. She had already lost one boy to the Sith.

"I think its a wonderful idea. But why take him? The boys will most likely be joining us down in the quarters, for dinner at least," she said, for the regular slaves and force sensitive ones were kept separate, lest the Jedi try to inspire hope in the hearts of the powerless.

"I know. But I wanted to introduce him to Han…Privately," Ah, yes. Nava couldn't restrain a light chuckle of mirth. Han was very possessive of Obi-wan; he'd likely not welcome the competition. And if she remembered Anakin correctly…

_This_ should be funny.

"I almost regret the fact that I have to miss it," she quipped, shaking her head at the image. Then, sobering, she looked at him askance. "Did you tell Anakin? About Qe-Azen," the small smile on Obi-wan's face fell as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the standard expressionless mask in place.

"Yes," he replied, hesitantly. "It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but…I did. He swore vengeance for me," he snorted. Nava nodded, for once in her life, completely agreeing to this promise of justice done Qe had been as much her son as he had been Obi-wan's… She missed him.

Very much and very often, though she tried not to show it.. "I always knew I liked that boy," she agreed, wholeheartedly. "I don't want revenge," Obi-wan kept his unwavering gaze straight ahead. "I just don't want to fail anyone else," Nava knew he meant it.

"Qe loved you _so _much," She whispered mournfully, as she had many times to him, when he laid stiff and silent at her side at night, and she knew he was hearing that boy's screams in his head again.

Indeed, Nava had seen the way Qe-Azen loved Obi-wan, had worshipped him as the equivalent as if he were a god himself, had seen the pride and affection shining through stormy grey eyes. No one could possibly have ever imagined Obi-wan on a higher pedestal than Qe-Azen had.

"He wouldn't want you to feel that way," she murmured, knowing that it was of no use. Obi-wan would always believe he had failed everyone. It was the way he was. Obi-wan sighed. They had been over this many times since his death.

"I know," he replied, and left it at that. "Well, as long as you know," Nava retorted dryly as they came upon the door to his old quarters. Fingers flying, making as little noise as possible, somehow Obi-wan managed to type in the right code. Her husband would never cease to amaze. The ray shield powered down, and Nava palmed open the door to see the Skywalkers already eagerly waiting.

"There you are!" Padme gasped, she looked as if she had been staring unblinkingly at the door for awhile now. Anakin emerged from the kitchen, looking stressed and weary, but glad to see them. Luke and Leia pounced up with all the enthusiasm of children.

Nava grinned, also gratified to see Threepio and Artoo safely stowed away in the back corner, turned off. She had missed those silly droids.

"Yes. Sorry we're late, but you know the party is never any fun unless we're so," she agreed, leaning against the doorway. Padme made a point of rolling her eyes fondly at her friend, giving Obi-wan a quick kiss on the cheek before walking over. Nava wrapped an arm around her, relieved that Padme seemed yet unharmed, despite the lines of stress in a matured face.

"Are you guys okay? You look beyond tired," Luke asked, his eyes concerned as he and Leia trailed their mother both studying Obi-wan And Nava as if they suspected that their hopes and dreams had been dashed away to pieces. Just because this was true did not mean they had to be so _pitying_ about it.

"That's what happens when you spend copious amounts of time near Sith. They give you migraines," Obi-wan joked with a wide smile as Anakin walked up to place a hand on his shoulder, leaning slightly towards Obi-wan as if his old master were all that were holding him up.

"Well, we had better get going. The council awaits you all," Obi-wan chuckled softly. "Particularly _you, _Luke and Leia. You'll be the guests of honor, being as how you're practically knights already and all," he told them. The smiles this teasing generated were enough to have blinded out all of Hoth's nonexistent suns.

The sight warmed her heart, momentarily. "Yep. They won't care about me. I'm only the Chosen One," Anakin piped in, with a snort. "_We_ have an appointment of our own to keep," Obi-wan reminded him. Anakin nodded. "Ready when you are master," he turned to his wife and children.

"Go with Nava. I'll catch up in a moment. And keep your senses sharp," he commanded as if they were troops. In accordance with her thoughts, both children snapped to attention and saluted. "If you say so, sir!" they snapped. Anakin gave a rueful smile.

"I see they inherited your impudence," Obi-wan observed with amusement. "And Nava- keep an eye out for Senator Amidala here," Anakin told her, as he eyed his wife peevishly. "She and the twins have already perfected their escape attempts through the vents and made allies. Sometimes I wonder about her mental sanity," he informed her.

Padme only gave her husband a sparkling grin. "Sanity is no longer an acceptable answer, Anakin," she quipped. "She has a point," Nava agreed grimly, shaking her head. "Things are going to get very insane by the end of this, Ani," she reminded him. Anakin gave her a weary smile, putting an elbow on Obi-wan's shoulder.

"She still gives lectures, huh?" he teased, never taking his eyes from her. Obi-wan sighed dramatically. "I'm afraid so, my friend. Don't even give her a subject to cling too, or you'll never have another day of rest," he snorted. Nava was so delighted to see Obi-wan effortlessly joking around again after so long she only laughed.

"Well, let's leave these love birds to their date, shall we?" She suggested. "Have fun," Leia teased, raising her brows suggestively at the two men. Obi-wan, who didn't see the sign, no less heard the teasing in her voice and decided to ignore it in the favor of his pride, no doubt. "Don't tempt me to give Luke punishment rights, young lady," Anakin replied, having no such squabbles himself.

"Sorry, father-but I like life. And Leia hits hard," was Luke's input on this as he sauntered after his sister with Nava and Padme on their heels. "You're going to live a very long time, Luke," Leia praised her brother cheerfully. Obi-wan chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"They sound like us," he observed. "Yeah," Anakin agreed, with a rueful shake of his head, obviously focusing more on the implications of this than the good that had come of it.

_At least,_ Nava reflected, glancing over her shoulder as they exited the room and the two men headed in the opposite direction, shoulder to shoulder, assured and graceful in their roles as partners.

_The Universe has gotten Its Team back._ And at a glance at Padme, Nava saw that the younger woman saw it too, and was just as glad.

* * *

~Obi-wan's POV~

Both men waited a maximum of ten minutes before they spoke to one another. Obi-wan, hearing the footsteps of the others fade until they were mere pad noises in the distance, nodded.

"Are you alright?" Anakin asked automatically, this being the first thing that always came to his mind, so far as Obi-wan remembered. "Is there a reason I shouldn't be?" Obi-wan inquired back, slightly surprised by the question.

Of course, it wasn't as if he weren't asked that question daily. The slaves of the Jedi order looked out for one another, and he knew almost all of his fellow slaves intimately. He was asked this question every day.

Yet no one had ever been able to ask it quite like Anakin could. Qe-Azen had been the closest match, but he even had lacked _experience_, Obi-wan supposed, to pitch the question just right. Enough to leech the attachment from his voice but still retain the brotherly concern hidden beneath the vowels.

"You're a _slave_, Obi-wan," Anakin sighed, as if exasperated by his ignorance. "I hadn't noticed at all," Obi-wan pretended to gasp. Anakin snorted, and Obi-wan could not help but chuckle. It felt good to tease his friend once more. It had been far too long.

"I'm fine, Anakin. The real question is, I think, are_ you_ alright?" he wondered. He could vaguely hear and feel, more of, Anakin running a hand through his hair. _Did he still do that?_ Obi-wan wished he could see, or at least sense it.

"Me? Oh, I'm fine," Anakin bit sarcastically. "I'm only under the employ of Darth Sidious, who, by the way, has this sick sense of fun that he showed me this morning. Are you all aware he watches you while you're hosed like animals?" Anakin had seen that?

"Did you notice that we all kept our backs to him so that we wouldn't be _forced _to be aware?" he retorted, calmly. "He's sick," Anakin repeated, irately. Obi-wan couldn't very well argue with him there.

"Insane, I take it," he corrected. "A sick, insane, mad, malicious fool," Anakin added. Obi-wan deduced, wisely, that Anakin wasn't at his best mood at the moment, and shook his head.

"What else did he do to you?" He asked worriedly. Anakin snorted. "Besides take me to see that mockery he calls a Senate? I had to sit there and watch them throw words around like two kids playing catch, only to turn to Sidious in the end and ask what he wanted. Oh, and he gave me my lightsaber back," Obi-wan almost stumbled, shocked. He hadn't expected that.

"He did? Why?" he demanded, knowing that there had to be some warped catch. "He replaced the crystal with a red one," Obi-wan scowled and thought over this, not overly stunned but still disgusted. A Lightsaber was a Jedi's life. Touching it, disassembling it must have taken time and skill.

It had been tainted, and the crystal signifying Anakin's life as a Jedi destroyed. _And whoever said the Sith can't be poetic_? Obi-wan thought with scoff. "I'm sorry, Anakin," he said aloud, instead, understanding how hard it must have been to walk around with a red saber all day. His friend had never liked the color red. None of them had.

Obi-wan had no clue where his lightsaber was or what had been done with it. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. He had not touched the thing for seven years. He heard Anakin sigh deeply. "Don't be. Its only an object. I shouldn't be so upset about it, but Force master, you know that thing was like my life. At times, the reminder of all the good I had done with it was all that kept me going when things got rough," Anakin confessed.

Obi-wan nodded. "You aren't wrong to feel that way, Anakin," he counseled. "That weapon is, after all, your life. I understand," he assured him. The air around the younger man relaxed. "Thanks, master. Where are we going anyway?" He asked.

"The hangar bay. That's where I can find Han and Lando most of the time. They should be getting ready to join the Jedi for dinner," he contemplated. "Do I even want to know how you all are fed?" Anakin groaned. Obi-wan chuckled. "Slop isn't so bad, Anakin. It's all a point of view," he said, trying for all the life of him to sound optimistic.

"So, what's your point of view?" Anakin asked impishly, laughter in his voice. "That it tastes just how it smells-like Gundark feces. But it stays down on about the fourth time of regurgitation," he joked. Anakin laughed bitterly. "Right. Well, since the boys are joining us for dinner, why didn't you wait to introduce me until then?" He asked.

"Because I'm not sure _you'll _be around that long, and your time will be occupied. To tell you the truth, I'm rather worried about why Sidious has given you this long a leash already," Obi-wan contemplated. Anakin hummed deep in his throat. "Me, too. Not his style; is it?" he pondered.

Before Obi-wan could respond, he came nose to nose with the cold panel of the hangar bay. The door opened without his moving a muscle, and he blinked, taken aback until he realized that Anakin had opened it for him. "Oh, yes," he muttered, walking in rather uncertainly.

It had been a very long time since someone had actually done a courteous deed for him, and admittedly, Obi-wan had become accustomed to politeness being a thing of the past, unheeded, though not always unwanted.

Instantly, his hearing sharpened onto the sound of shuffling inside of a large ship directly ahead. Weaving his way through the maze of smaller ships being shut down by maintenance droids and child slaves, he lead the way back to Han's prized child.

The _Millennium Falcon_. "What is_ that_?" Anakin demanded aghast to see such a tangled heap of nonsense anywhere near perfectly good ships.

Obi-wan had never seen the ship himself, but it had been described to him in great detail by first Han, proudly, and then Nava, amusedly, before Ahsoka had piped in with her expert knowledge and declared it was trash, pure and simple.

Obi-wan chuckled softly. "Another Twilight," he replied, staying back a ways, Enjoying the sound of Han's dictatorial voice and Lando's quieter but just as stubborn whining.

"Chewie, hand me that plasma righter!" Han called, his voice ringing out to them from the cold metal exterior of the ship. The loud roar of an adult Wookie was heard throughout the otherwise silent room. Obi-wan dimly translated it to mean, 'there's no such thing as a plasma righter!' which would be correct. "Are they trying to _fix_ that fire hazard?" Anakin croaked.

"Han is convinced it can be salvaged. He is so confident; in fact, he managed to talk Lando into swindling one of the droids into keeping it here. And you know how hard headed droids can be," he chuckled.

Anakin grunted sardonically. "Don't I? And you _let _them into that thing?" he managed. Obi-wan was surprised that Anakin seemed to think he had any control whatsoever of Han, Lando, Chewie or_ anything_ in his life at the moment. "They're thirteen Anakin. I lay no claim on them, nor would they listen if I started trying," he pointed out.

Anakin tsked underneath his breath. "Same clueless master…I think you underestimate the power of your lectures. When I was thirteen, I tried to act as if you had no claim on me too, but in all truth, you were the only one who truly did back then," he said.

Obi-wan felt warmth spread in his chest, but he simply nudged Anakin playfully. "And it just took me getting a whole head worths of gray hairs for you to realize it?" He teased good naturedly. Anakin laughed softly. "Hey-I had to make you work for it. After all, no laggard gets any sort of claim on me. I'm worth too much," Anakin answered, nudging him back.

"Hey, Han," Lando's higher and much more cultured voice broke in as Obi-wan heard footsteps coming from the backroom. "I have an idea, lets scrap this project and go down for some dinner…I, for one, would like to spend at least ten minutes with some people who don't call me_ boy_ left and right tonight, don't know about you," he quipped.

The footsteps halted and a heavy object was dumped unceremoniously to the ground. "Hang on! I think I'm on the edge of a breakthrough, Lando!" Han called back, eagerly. Obi-wan could hear Lando sigh and envision the eye rolling that went along with it.

"A breakthrough, he says. Well, can't he finish up his miraculous breakthrough tomorrow?" Lando grumbled to himself. "Chewbacca, should we ditch this loser or what?" he called. It was then that Obi-wan decided to make his entrance from the darkness of the ships, Anakin trailing curiously.

"That won't be necessary, boys, I've come to fetch you, so there will be no abandoning of comrades," he greeted, smoothly. "_Obs_!" Lando cried delightedly. Chewbacca roared his greeting from the back, just as happily.

"Hey, Obs! Where've you been? I've been sitting around, trying to stall for ya for two…" Han ended his tirade at, what was Obi-wan assumed, the moment he noticed Anakin standing beside him.

"Don't worry," he quickly assured them, feeling the atmosphere in the room tense. "This is a friend of mine. You two will remember my stories about Anakin?" he nodded proudly to the man at his side, still in a bit of shock over the fact that Anakin was back at his side, this man wasn't just a story anymore, tales of the good times which lay behind Obi-wan's eyelashes every time he closed them.

"Skywalker? That little brat who we all agreed needed a good whupping?" Han asked critically. Obi-wan sighed. He hadn't meant for that to be the first thing Anakin heard about the stories he had told others but, the truth hurt at times. Thankfully, the seven years of fatherhood had taught Anakin not to take things so personally.

Instead, Anakin laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. "I see you've been spreading false tales again, old man. Fine with me. It gives me a justifiable excuse to start in with embarrassing stories of my own," blast, he was_ clever_ now too. "So you're Skywalker, huh?" Han broke in, before Obi-wan could protest this. "Funny, you look more like a doe-twinkle to me, doesn't he look like a doe-twinkle to you, Lando?" he began.

_I had a feeling this was going to happen,_ Obi-wan thought, mildly curious about what Anakin's comeback would be. He had felt him tense. "Doe twinkle times ten, Han," Lando popped speculatively.

"But if what Obs says is true-he's a cool doe-twinkle. So, doe-twinkle, what's happenin'?" Obi-wan was tempted to laugh as Anakin cleared his throat loudly, obviously feeling much the same about the boys as they thought of him.

"Chewbacca," he greeted instead the Wookie that approached. "It is good to see you again, my friend. I'm sorry that it had to be under such circumstances," he said formally. Chewbacca responded by crushing Anakin in a bear hug which Obi-wan could hear by Anakin's muffled exclamation of surprise.

"Ah, yeah," Anakin gasped when his feet once more touched the ground. "Hi. Anyway, wannabe mechanic and puff ball head," he said, addressing the two boys coldly.

Obi-wan guffawed quietly in laughter; apparently Anakin was addressing Lando's puff of black hair that grew from the top of his head in a tangled nap of uncombed curls. "I am _not_ a doe-twinkle, and in case you're wondering what I am, it's not a past pickpocket or the future star of 'seriously jacked up hairstyles magazine,'" he went on calmly.

"What'd he say to us Obs?" Han demanded irate, as Lando stayed in a gawking silence. "I believe he called one of you a former convict and called Lando's hairstyle stupid," Obi-wan translated apologetically. "And you're just gonna let him_ say_ that to us?" Lando gasped.

"If it helps Lando, _I _like your hairstyle," he tried to say supportively. "Obs!" Lando groaned. "You can't see!" he pointed out as if this were out of Obi-wan's area of understanding as well.

"And he said I was a pickpocket!" Han added. Obi-wan nodded calmly, already feeling the stirrings of war on the horizon. He had had an idea the first meeting would go something like this.

"In his defense, Han-you were. Its nothing to be ashamed of," he said before Anakin could put in his own opinion on the matter. "Pick pocketing takes quite a bit of skill. Anakin is only jealous of your talent, I guarantee you," he placated him.

"Don't mean he has to say it to me like that!" Han grumbled, nominally assured yet still unwilling to let the case drop. "That was improper grammar, picky," Anakin said back. "And besides, you started it," he said. Obi-wan could only chuckle softly and shake his head, pleased with himself.

"You haven't changed much, my friend," he said, patting Anakin on the shoulder as he turned to go. "I'm glad. And boys, try to go easy on doe-twinkle for awhile. He's stressed, being twinkly and all," Obi-wan called over his shoulder. Han snorted with laughter, added to the irrepressible giggles from Lando and the roaring laughter of Chewie as they followed after him.

Obi-wan knew that his life was not so bad after all when he heard Anakin's laughter, and a promise of revenge in the hand that crept back to squeeze his shoulder cheerfully.


	22. plans and unexpected spies

_**Later:**_

~Anakin's POV~

They arrived back at the slaves quarters around the same time as did Nava and Padme. Though they had used, as Han had boastingly announced, a back way which he had found years earlier while _some_ people were out living their own lives, it was surprisingly fast.

Not that Anakin was all that eager to see the masses of people that wearily trudged into the room when shifts were up. True, he had missed his family, and had even yearned for the protective strength of having other force users around, if feeling the light course through his veins, taking with it the unbridled kindness of the souls around him…

But to see what had been done to them because of his own blindness was inexcusable, and most importantly, it terrified him.

Anakin stood from the small hole where they had crawled through to get down here. Slowly, quietly, Lando moved the stone slab back into place with the help of Chewie. It was obvious the Sith had no idea that this small entrance were here or paid little mind to it.

No need to go and change their mind about that decision. The slaves here experienced little enough joy as it was. Anakin did not want to be the one that took that away from them.

Anakin looked up to see Padme smiling uneasily down at him; he read the same distress in her eyes that was in his heart. Her back was turned to the crowd of people slowly filing in, all species and genders all in one room. The acrid smell of sweat, soot and other things filled the cave.

Anakin wrinkled his nose at the smell and took Padme's hand. She helped him up, with a sigh. "Welcome to the cave of wonders," Padme teased lightly as he stood beside her, a hand on her back protectively while he gazed around. He had seen all of this from above that morning, of course, but now that he was here, he was given the other half of the picture.

All around, the force users of the galaxy shuffled around one another with practiced grace and flexibility in the small confined space, talking wearily with each other, but not without warmth. _How don't you feel claustrophobic in here?_ Anakin wondered with a shudder.

He had never been able to function in small environments like this. He needed open space and fresh air, both of which were sorely lacking in such a constricted area.

He sensed that despite their horrible circumstances, there was the aura of _community_ in this room that the populace kept in abundance. It seemed as if they were all one tight nit family. Fitting. Without another word, Chewbacca patted Han on the head and vanished into the crowd, surprisingly agile for a creature of his size.

"Cave of wonders! Why haven't we thought to call it that yet?" Ahsoka harrumphed as she materialized from the crowd as if she had been there all along. By her side, Luke and Leia gave him grins, but he could feel the pure rage and terror they felt through the force.

Already, they had seen too much. He wished it were not so.

"It is rather creative," Nava ventured, coming from the side of them as easily as if she were a spirit. Indeed, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and the grave expression that seemed to permeate from her eyes would give away that exact impression.

"Hey! Nava!" Lando cried, pushing Anakin aside to get to her. Han followed, more reserved, his face melted into a tough expression as he sauntered up. Anakin rolled his eyes. Who did this kid think he was, anyway? Anakin did _not _remember being so thick headed at thirteen.

Nava grinned and put hands on their shoulders, motherly eyes glowing with wholehearted affection. "Hello, boys. I was wondering what was taking you so long to get here," she glanced with amusement at Anakin, evidently she knew exactly why it had taken them so long, and took great joy in knowing it.

Anakin found nothing amusing about being dubbed doe-twinkle at first sight. "We saved you some rations," Intrepid added, kindly. In her eye's he saw an acute fondness for the two miscreants. Obviously none of them had been dubbed _doe-twinkle._

"Food, yes! I'm starving! I could eat a Gundark right about now," Han exclaimed, content with life if it included food, as many teenage boys were. Anakin smiled amusedly.

Luke could eat a Gundark every night just as well. "You know Han, I'm starting to think you'll never get a girlfriend," Lando sighed theatrically, shaking his head at his boisterous friend. "You don't say it like that in front of women," he informed him.

"Well, excuse me for not being all cultured, Lando, and may I remind you…" The very impatient Leia Skywalker, who had been gazing at the two boys contemplatively for some time now, interrupted Han.

"Who are you?" She broke in, having no regard for the conversation at hand. Han and Lando ceased their bickering to turn to her, irritably. "I'm Han, and this is Lando," Han explained gruffly, waving at Lando with debonair.

Then, glancing between Anakin and Leia, decided "you must be doe-twinkle's daughter," he said. Leia was unimpressed, though Padme threw Anakin a confused look.

"Doe twinkle?" She wondered, mouth quirking at the sides. "I see you've introduced them," Intrepid laughed. "It went as well as to be expected," Obi-wan agreed, with a nod.

"And you must be the sorry son of bantha's behind that the Force threw in my way so I could learn that compassion and patience trump murder and strangulation," Leia replied, boredily. Anakin snorted, Padme sighed. Lando burst into laughter as Han cocked a brow. Anakin could sense he took great interest in Leia now.

Anakin sensed that_ he_ wasn't going to like this kid overly much. "That's Leia," Luke told them apologetically. "And I'm Luke. Her name means peace, which technically means that she can't strangle you. But my name means light, which implies that if it's in the greater good, I can do it for her," he smiled then, impishly.

"I like you two," Han determined, with a glance at Lando, who was nodding thoughtfully. "You have spunk," Lando agreed humorously.

"Why don't you four go and get something to eat?" Padme suggested, lightly, giving away none of her inner confusion on just what was going on right now. "But what about the meeting with the council?" Luke asked worriedly, turning anxious eyes to Anakin.

"I'll call you when you're needed," he said, tapping his forehead to indicate how they would do that. Accepting this, Luke and Leia nodded and started into the crowd. "Come on, guys," Luke called amiably over his shoulder. With a wave, Lando vanished after them with Han.

Anakin waited until they were out of earshot to scowl. "Damn Sidious," he repeated, gazing around at the cramped space bitterly. "He's packed you in here like mules…Are you all alright? Where's Lux?" he asked, turning to the four people standing before him.

"Lux is down in the dungeon. Its his turn to distract the guards while Bail, Mon and Chu-chi come up here to discuss strategy with you," Intrepid explained. Anakin nodded, reluctantly.

"Speaking of which, we'd better not keep them any longer," Obi-wan said, turning in a random direction. He waved his hand, beckoning them after him. Anakin filed into line behind Padme, squeezing her hand for her bravery that day, and the irony of the situation.

They had feared many times during the Clone Wars of the danger that someone might find out about their marriage.

They had even speculated a scenario like this, a moment in which Obi-wan lead them to the council chambers, where execution awaited. Now, they were being lead to the council, as man and wife, but also as Jedi and senator. Somehow, it filled Anakin with content to know that they were being considered in the light of both, without contradiction.

Finally, the party arrived to the farthest corner of the room, safe away from any Sith that might come unto the observation decks to keep an eye on the Jedi below. Anakin's presence was probably of little secret to the Sith inside of the palace. After all, all of them were probably honing their senses to know where he was at all times.

In the corner, sitting and standing loosely, was the remainder of the Jedi council. Mace, Yoda, Fisto, Shaak Ti, Master Tinn and Koth. With Obi-wan that made seven of the original members. Seven out of twelve had survived first the war, then slavery.

Anakin felt a twinge deep in his chest, his stomach roiled. _This is all my fault._ Also there were, true to Intrepid's word, Bail, Organa, Mon Mothma and Chu-Chi, all sitting on the ground tiredly, shoulders drooping and eyes bloodshot from work and lack of light. "Bail!" Padme cried, ripping from his arms to race to her old friends.

Anakin felt another pang in his heart when the three politicians jumped to their feet, grins wide and sincere as they took their old comrade into their arms joyfully.

He had failed to remember just how difficult it must have been for Padme to know that her friends, too, were under Sidious's rule. She had hidden the apparent worry she had for them well, even from him, instead focusing on his problems

Anakin gazed at his wife with apparent amazement; at times he wondered what he had ever done to deserve Padme, and never came up with a decent answer.

Shaking his head, he noticed that Intrepid and Nava, along with a good many of the others that flocked the area around, had inconspicuously made a ring surrounding the tiny corner. Making their chosen rendezvous invisible to any peering eyes and were talking so loudly that the contents of the discussion yet to happen would be lost in the wind.

Anakin grinned and turned to Mace Windu, who was smiling back at him, dark brown eyes sorrowful, but no less welcoming. "Masters," Anakin greeted in relief as he stepped forward to take Mace's hand in a warm handshake.

"Brother," Mace smiled with stunning white teeth. "Welcome back," Anakin didn't ask what that meant. He sensed the relief and joy emanating from the others.

_How could I ever have thought of them as emotionless? _Anakin wondered, aghast at himself as warm welcomes and gentle teasing about his appearance and overall fatherhood surrounded him.

Yoda jumped unto Master Koth's back, and Anakin had to stare at the ridiculous red hat that jingled when he moved. _What in the blazes…?_ He wondered before he remembered that Obi-wan had said Yoda was the official court jester to the court of Darth Sidious.

No wonder he was in clothes fit for a comedian! Anakin's vision tunneled a moment as the heat of anger took him. Slowly, he released it.

Anger would do him no good here, quite the opposite, in fact. "Glad to see you safe are we, young Skywalker," Yoda said, his high voice hoarse, but otherwise unchanged. "What took you so long?" Master Fisto teased with his characteristic easy smile. Anakin had to grin back. He sensed no bitterness on these people.

They did not begrudge the fact of their enslavement, or Anakin's seven years of farm life while they toiled as slaves. He wondered if he deserved such compassion, and finally ended with the answer that in truth, no one did. That was why it was given so freely.

"Ah, you know masters," he replied with a half shrug, glancing mischievously at Obi-wan. "I couldn't find a speeder that I really liked," he told them, nonchalantly. Obi-wan snorted. "Of course you couldn't," he replied, with a half shrug himself. "Life has left you completely unreformed," Mace grunted. Anakin could only nod, hoping that this was a good thing.

"I appreciate your help earlier, when Sidious forced me into a hole," Anakin said to Mace gratefully, when they had all sat cross-legged in a tight circle speaking warily, quietly.

"I'm not all that sure what exactly I helped," Mace admitted with a puzzled look. "I could just see that you were torn," he explained. Anakin nodded understandingly. "I learned the reason why Sidious has kept you all here, enslaved, instead of killing you outright," he began.

"Which is?" Bail wondered with a cock of one brow. "To blackmail Anakin," Padme spoke up from beside him. Anakin nodded somberly. "If I don't do as he says," he met their eyes, each of them. "You all die," he said.

None of those present seemed surprised, though widened eyes of alarm sprang to life. "Of course," Ahsoka uttered, turning horrified eyes to Anakin. "That's all he wants us for-bargaining chips," she breathed.

"And I assume he made you swear to be his apprentice?" Master Shaak Ti said, eyeing him tiredly. "I'm sorry," Anakin agreed remorsefully. The apology went deeper than any of them knew.

"Well, we certainly aren't going to condemn you for keeping us alive," Mace comforted him. "Now we just have to figure out how we're going to keep_ you_ alive," Master Fisto agreed. Padme beamed with gratitude.

"He's going to be a spy, of course," Obi-wan piped in helpfully. "Of course," Bail agreed smoothly. "Goodness knows you'll probably find out more than any of us could ever have," he considered.

"Me and the twins have already begun our spy work," Padme told them. "I thought you three were locked in a room," Master Koth exclaimed, startled. "They _were_," Anakin groaned. "The twins found the vents," for a moment, this confession only made Padme grin and the others fall into a thick silence.

Then, to Anakin's surprise, they all let out rasping chuckles. "Surprised, I cannot say I am," Yoda observed wickedly. "Indeed. And what have you found out?" Mace wondered. Padme gave a light shrug.

"I talked to Rex and Cody," Obi-wan and Ahsoka straightened at the name of his former commander and her ex brother in arms. "The Stormtroopers? You ran into some and they didn't shoot you on sight?" Chu-Chi asked.

Padme shook her head. "It's a long story, but they gave an explanation for Order 66. Luke and Leia verified they were telling the truth," she said. The Jedi turned to Anakin with cocked brows that asked, conspicuously, whether the twin's judgment were to be trusted what with their age and strength in the force. "They're very strong in the Force, more attuned even than I into people's feelings," he explained.

"And they held no greater love for the clones and their betrayal as we all do," because he could sense the bitterness and hurt still hanging off them in waves, "so if they say that the clones have been telling the truth-they have," he promised, having utmost confidence in his children. "Very well. What say the clones, to the murder of their generals?" Yoda wondered, large eyes blinking slowly, almost sleepily.

"They plead 'chip in their heads,' Master Yoda," Padme replied primly. Anakin cocked his head curiously. "Forgive me if I sound like I have a 'chip on my shoulder' Padme," Mon said dryly, to the amusement of all. "But what is that supposed to mean?" Obi-wan smiled dully. "My feelings exactly," he agreed.

"It means Sidious paid the Kaminoans to betray us all," Padme spat out. "There was a small chip inside of every clone's brain that activated at a code word. The words Order 66. Sidious hacked into the comm. Links of every clone through some weird magic of his and gave the order," Anakin inhaled sharply. "That can't be right!" he cried, wondering if he had maybe overestimated the power Luke and Leia yielded and their handle on it.

"Through the years of war I saw more clone brains splattered everywhere than I'd care to admit, and I never saw any sign of a chip!" He said. "Nor did any of us sense it," Shaak Ti added.

"Nor," Bail piped in reasonably, interrupting their objections. "Did any of us see the hundreds of transmissions that Palpatine and Dooku exchanged a day, even though we all spent most of our existence in that office of his. Nor did anyone sense a Sith lord sitting in the Chancellor's chair," he pointed out calmly, with a significant look at the Jedi.

Anakin bristled under the look, but had to nod. "Point taken," Ahsoka agreed graciously, though she looked no happier to have it said to her face. Anakin racked through his memory for those terrifying moments before he had been forced to leave his family behind, Order 66.

"And Rex-he did save the twins," He said slowly, looking to Obi-wan. "Remember? We found them locked in my quarters. Rex had told them to go there and hide, not to open the door for anyone. He saved them," he recounted. "I remember," Padme piped in. "He reminded us. He said that he blacked out fighting off the chips influence to do that- a last service to you," she nodded at Anakin.

"This being after you slugged him, I assume?" Anakin said to her. Padme gave him an innocent look which he knew for a fact was a complete and utter fake. "Why, Anakin, I would never do that!... Besides, Leia already had him pinned to the wall, so I couldn't even if I had wanted too," she told him.

"Since we're speaking of hitting, can we get to whether we're going to trust the clones or not?" Chu-chi interrupted, giving them a stern look. "They could be invaluable help to us," Kit piped in. "And this could also be a trap by Sidious, with deadly consequences," Mace put in.

"Hmm," hummed Yoda suddenly, gaining the attention of all present. "Risks do we all take, already. Fear and caution, two different things are these, rule us we cannot allow fear too. If help our situation the clones can, worth the risk it is," he declared, and his word carried the same authoritative weight that it always had, despite the loss of the Force and the fact that Yoda still looked plainly ridiculous in his clown's outfit.

_That's real power for ya, Sidious,_ Anakin thought in awe. _Being able to hold the same respect from your peers…Dressed like that. _"How do we get in touch with them?" Anakin then asked, since it was established, but Padme gave an apologetic half shrug. "They just said they would find us," she said.

"I don't like the sound of that," Obi-wan admitted. "What with the amount of choices we have had like that lately, one would think we'd get used to it," Mace considered, his mouth thinning with displeasure.

"If I have my say, you'll have your chance to get back into that old rhythm soon enough," Anakin assured them. "Speaking of which, what's the plan for getting everyone free?" he asked. The Jedi council exchanged one glance, and Anakin felt the Force shift.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here," Master Koth decided, hesitantly. "Freeing us is a _second _priority, Skywalker. Knowledge that could help the Rebellion's cause comes first," Anakin tensed, his emotions getting the best of him. "Your_ lives_ mean more to me than this pitiless war. The Jedi need to live if we're to win," he told them fiercely.

"The war has survived this long without the Jedi Order," Obi-wan pointed out in that infuriatingly patient way of his that Anakin had mistakenly missed so much. "Light will conquer in the end, whether or not we're around. We merely come to serve, and right now, the best way to serve the Light is not to free the population of slaves, however much we wish it so," his lecturing skills had not lessened, it seemed.

"The freedom of this universe is more important right now than our freedom, Anakin," Bail stared him straight in the eye, his own dark brown eyes buzzing with detached superiority.

Anakin felt his heart clench. This should not have even been discussed. This should not have happened to them. "As a Jedi, I know you understand this," Anakin felt as if he had been punched in the gut.

For seven years now, though he certainly had acted more Jedi-like, the fact that he had also been a full time father was not a fact to be negated. His family came first, always, so frequently that Anakin had forgotten what it was like to put the well-being of the galaxy before the well-being of those he loved.

He had been training Luke and Leia to be Jedi, but also to be people. He wondered if he had done them a disservice as well as a favor, because at times, being a person was what led straight down a path that was the reason they were here fighting, dying, in the first place.

He sighed. He would have his day with Sidious, and he would free the Jedi, if he'd die in the process it hardly mattered. But not today. Today he had to follow the Force's will, and trust that it knew what it was doing.

"I understand," he sighed, and it was almost as hard as swearing himself to Sidious. Cocking his head, he stiffened when he sensed new figures approach from _somewhere_…

"I sense something," he announced as a warning. "So did we," Luke and Leia suddenly appeared, standing above him. "Merciful Force, are those_ your_ children?" Mace gasped, as if they might be slaves whom he had just never seen around before. Anakin beamed. "Luke and Leia Skywalker at your service, masters," Luke agreed readily.

"What is that?" Leia added, a crease appearing in her brows. "Stop your worryin, would ya? It's only Ackbar," Han snorted, appearing over Leia's shoulder.

Lando nodded and gently elbowed his way into their circle. He knelt behind Ahsoka, whispering something in her Lekku. His former apprentice listened intently, and then nodded.

"Well done, young one," she said. Then, turning to Han, directed, "you must bring them here," she said. Han cocked a brow, Anakin could sense that he did not take kindly to being told what to do, but respect for Ahsoka dictated he do as he was bid.

"You two hooligans are _spies_?" Anakin couldn't help but sputter, wondering just how much he hadn't known about the spy system he had so cleverly assumed to have built. "Sure are, doe-twinkle," Han agreed merrily.

Shaak Ti smiled knowingly at Obi-wan. "I see you've introduced them," she observed. "It went well, I think," Obi-wan grinned. "We want the rebels to win, too. Everybody hates the Empire," Lando continued, both boys ignoring those comments.

"Besides," he added then, eyes dulling with sorrow. "We owe it to Qe," the Force spiked with sadness, though neither the boys nor Obi-wan showed what so eloquently was obvious for Anakin to sense.

"Lando is allowed into the streets by the Sith. He's actually a double spy. He sneaks his way through the city, listening out for any conversation that could hint at insurrection towards the Empire. The Stormtroopers take care of them if our Rebels don't get there to save them first. And Han is the best mechanic in the hangar bay, the other mechanic slaves go to him for anything, including any helpful tidbits for the Rebellion. They're two of my best sources," Ahsoka explained.

Anakin cocked a brow. "I see_ you're_ still in the spy leadership business," he observed. She gave him a sparkling grin. "Like master, like apprentice," she agreed. Anakin couldn't help but chuckle, his respect for the boys increasing a bit. They were no cowards; he would give them that much.

He still did not like them though.

"Anyway, I'll go get Ackbar and Yavin…And I think Ventress is coming, too," Han continued, fairly _preening_ with the praise. Lando's eyes twinkled as he examined his nails as if they were actually made out of silver studs.

Strutting purposefully back into the crowd, Han vanished. Lando didn't follow, instead he walked over and sat contentedly behind Obi-wan, out of sight and silently watching.

No one seemed to mind his presence. "Ah, good, we'll need her input," Mon said serenely. "Ventress?" Anakin and Padme demanded in unison. "_Asajj_ Ventress?" Luke and Leia then asked, just as shocked.

"One of our most trustworthy sources. We report what is happening to her, and she passes it along until the council gets word," Mace explained. "Why would she help the Jedi?" Padme demanded. Mace shrugged, gracefully. "Her reasons are, as she says, her own. Personally, I think she merely hates Dooku more than she hates us," he answered.

"Or perhaps we've grown on her," Obi-wan offered kindly. "I thought Admiral Ackbar was a traitor," Luke stated perplexedly, abandoning what was perceptibly a futile argument for the sake of time. Anakin felt pride bloom in his chest.

"He was. In order to save his family, he swore allegiance to Dooku, and the clones picked him up when they left in the escape pods," Mon explained, face twisting a bit, as if she were in pain at the memory of that day. Indeed, it had been her last day of freedom.

"But when he returned, Dooku delivered to him the dead and mutilated bodies of his wife and children," Bail related sadly, his own eyes shadowed by the grief in this statement. Anakin remembered when he had sent the transmission to Bail's wife, Breha, explaining the reason her husband wasn't coming home to her…

It had been one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. He wondered what Breha would say if she could see, after seven years, that her husband were alive. Anakin knew she had loved him dearly, and vice versa. He couldn't imagine spending seven years away from his wife.

_I'll bring him back to you, Breha,_ _you have my word,_ he silently vowed to her. "It was very hard for him. To Sidious, he's a broken man, completely dependent upon the Empire for purpose," A small, mirthless mile spread across Master Koth's features.

"We know better. His help has been invaluable," he promised them. Padme sighed wholeheartedly. "Sidious needs to be stopped. Ackbar was a good man. He didn't deserve that," she said softly.

"Who is Yavin?" Anakin queried, in complete agreement with her. Several sets of eyebrows shot up. "You don't know who Yavin is?" Ahsoka asked, surprised. Anakin thought a moment. He might have heard the name once or twice…

"Assume we know nothing, because we don't," Padme interrupted with a curt wave of her hand. "He's more modest than we give him credit for," Obi-wan breathed, seemingly surprised by this.

"Yavin the fourth," Bail began informatively. "Was in the top five most wanted criminals in Republic history, during the days of the Clone War. I forgot what he did, exactly, something to do with weapons of mass destruction or some sort," Bail waved his hand dismissively as if this were a minor triviality.

"Yavin the third, his father, was a successful business man/gangster. No one knows where he is. Some say Yavin might have poisoned him, but anyways, Yavin inherited the wealth and the organization until Sidious came along, and took charge," Anakin was hardly surprised.

"He stripped Yavin of everything, including his family's wealth; Sidious attempted to have him killed, But Yavin managed to bamboozle his way free. After that, he got in contact with Ventress, and became a spy. I can't even_ begin_ to explain the contributions Yavin has made to helping not only the Rebellion, but us too. Without him, we wouldn't even be spies for the Rebellion, and a great many of us wouldn't be alive now," Bail spread his arm out to encompass the other slaves.

"He's snuck in food and medical supplies, brought in gifts for the children, he lurks in corners when you least expect it, with anything you might need. He's even saved a great majority of women from men's unwanted attentions and the rest of us from unwarranted whippings," Ahsoka added, with a meaningful look at Anakin.

"Are you sure you can trust him? Since he sold mass destruction in a bottle and poisoned his own father and all?" Leia wondered suspiciously. "Betrayed us yet, he has not," Yoda replied calmly.

Leia looked unconvinced, but said nothing more. Anakin was unsure if her worries were warranted, after all, he had met many a man who had changed their ways once they hit rock bottom. Though, that also didn't mean her suspicions were unwarranted either.

"Besides that, he compiles all of the information we give him into a suitable report, finding out the truth on his own if need be. Without Yavin, I doubt the Rebels would know even a tenth of what they do know about anything Sidious does. He has also convinced many influential people to join in on the Rebel bandwagon, along with his friend Tyrion Alwari," here Anakin squeezed Obi-wan's shoulder.

"It seems we are forever in this man's debt," he said lightly, glancing at Padme to see if she had known any of this or if she harbored any doubts. She shook her head minimally to signal she had no idea, and that she too, was unsure.

"Tell me about it," Luke grunted. "You _can _tell him that. Here he comes," Shaak Ti mildly stated as suddenly a fleet shadows three were ushered into their tight circle by the outside faction, who the went on cheerfully with their separate nonsensical conversations. Anakin looked up.

"By all the fates, its true," the first man, shorter than the other two gasped as he lowered his hood, Mon Calamari eyes wider than usual to see them there. _I understand your shock, trust me,_ Anakin thought as he stood to greet the infamous admiral.

"I'm afraid so," he agreed grimly as he shook hands with the former admiral of the Rebellion, now enslaved as well. He laid one hand over the other man's, eyes softening. "I am sorry about your family, Admiral," he said softly.

Ackbar only nodded numbly in thanks. "I need no consolations. I am sorry you must be brought here to witness all that you have," he turned his eyes to the twins, and suddenly the light returned.

"What in the blazes have you children been eating? You're nearly taller than I!" he teased them lightly. "As of yet, we still have the ability to remember the taste of things besides gruel," Leia piped in optimistically.

Anakin moved on to see Asajj Ventress lower her own hood and regard him without joy. The feeling was mutual. Despite everything else, this_ was_ the witch whom had mercilessly tortured his master, once long ago.

Still, he did owe her some respect, seeing as how she had mysteriously changed her ways. He moved forward, noting that she was still able to use the Force; indeed, she was using it to mask the Force signature of her, Yavin and Ackbar. _Why can she use it but the other Jedi can't?_ He wondered.

Also, the Force signature around her wasn't exactly _dark_, rather grey, but it wasn't light either. Thus being, he still thought she was a sorry Sith witch, however much respect may lay between them.

"Ventress," he greeted warily, making no move to grab her hand. For all he knew it could suddenly vanish if he were to grab hold of it. He could see, beneath her cloak, the glint of a saber on wide hips. His own hand settled lightly on his own lightsaber, not a threat, but definitely in warning.

"Skywalker," she responded in turn, crossing her arms as remote grey eyes peered at him without interest. "I had a feeling you would get caught one of these days," she observed dispassionately.

"I'm glad you had so much faith in me," Anakin snorted contemptuously. That elicited a small smirk out of her. "She's a faithful one, our Ventress," another voice, deeper than the both of them, chuckled as he stepped up. Anakin was surprised at the face of this so called criminal.

Mostly because the man was younger than he was. Granted, Anakin had done some pretty amazing things by the time he was in his twenties as well, despite this the shock that others, too, were dedicated to a greater way of life always surprised him, and not always pleasantly.

Anakin couldn't help but smile at the meager joke. "You could say that," he replied acidly, with an unfriendly glance back at the she-witch, which was quickly returned. The mysterious figure, Yavin no doubt, chuckled and extended a hand cordially.

Anakin took it with only a seconds hesitation. He sensed no malice on the man, but nor did he sense complete docility either. This man was like a wild cat; unpredictable.

Still, he had done nothing to arouse any of the other's mistrust, so Anakin supposed that they were friends if not allies. "So you're the famous General Skywalker. Yavin's my name. Good to meet you," Anakin cocked a brow, wondering at the last name, but let the subject drop. "I'm glad to meet you too," he replied warmly. "I thank you for all you've done," he said, with a nod at the others.

Yavin snorted, and Anakin had the faintest tickle at the back of his mind that he recognized the look of the Mirilian man. _Who does he remind me of?_ Anakin wondered. _Force, he reminds me of someone…_

Before he could ponder this question any further, Ahsoka gestured for him to come squeeze back into the collected assembly. "Well," he said with a rueful grin at Yavin. "Duty calls," Yavin nodded and clapped him on the back companionably.

"Tell me about it buddy," he agreed laconically. With that, they joined the tight circle of spies, the ones who were not slaves farthest away from any peeping eyes that may have appeared.

"So, what's the plan we have to take back to the big man?" Yavin wondered brusquely, looking around at the assembled group. "Anakin has sworn himself to Sidious to save our lives," Master Shaak Ti summed up.

"He'll be spying, and Padme and the twins are not exempt from spy duty either," the twins grinned, eyes sparkling with excitement for the prospect of adventure. Anakin would have to teach them that though they shouldn't fear a challenge, nor should they excite in its existence.

This might be their biggest challenge yet. He knew it would be for him. "The Stormtroopers, or at least two battalions of them, are on our side. For the most part, things will run normally, except for extra info we'll have you deliver," Chu-chi picked up.

"A simple plan if ever there was one," Ackbar accepted. "What is the status of the Rebel Council?" Padme demanded before anyone could say another word. "They're acting as if the universe is at an end," Ventress reported sardonically.

"On the bright side, Shantra is alive; and taking charge for the moment. Her orders were to find out if you're alright," Yavin then explained, he cocked a calculating brow at the family.

"I suppose slavery isn't the best term for being _alright_, but I like to assume she meant dead or tortured. Shall I relay the message that you are indeed, undead?" He wondered.

Anakin nodded. "But wait a minute; you have direct contact with the Rebel Council?" Padme piped in confusedly. Yavin snorted. "I'm a former criminal, of course not. I have contact to people_ close_ to the Rebel Council, people they trust. You know how business goes, senator," he flashed a lascivious smile. "They were as in the dark about the existence of the Jedi as I assume you were," he assured her, getting to the root of their fears, that Anakin and Padme had been the only ones not to know, because of either negligence or disloyalty.

"When you all were captured, they just demanded to have all spies near the Palace keep an eye out for you. We happen to be the closest. They were most surprised when we informed them of_ where_ we got our information from. We're more of messengers than spies, I think," he confessed.

"Very important messengers," Mon gently admonished. "They aren't planning some big rescue operation?" Padme demanded suspiciously, her fears assuaged. Yavin shrugged and turned to Ackbar, who shook his head.

"We don't know that much, shall I tell them not to?" He asked. Padme nodded, her eyes flashing. "Tell them to back off and wait. There are other things the Rebels need to be doing besides worrying over us. The rest of the galaxy doesn't need to panic over nothing," she asserted.

Ventress barked in unexpected laughter. "Never met a person who thought being abducted by Sith was nothing," she snickered. "What about Sidious, father?" Luke suddenly chimed in. "This is what we've been waiting for, this what we've been _training _for…Why can't we take him now?" he asked. Leia nodded in agreement.

"Well," Anakin began patiently. "For one: we're outnumbered, twins. This is a place of Darkness; Light has no hold here. We'd be fighting a losing battle. This requires stealth, not strength," he explained. Leia's eyes gleamed. "We have to wait for the right moment, like Sabbacc," she chirped.

"Like who?" Han echoed. Lando scratched his head. "I remember that game," he recounted to Han. "I always cheated," he said fondly. Han nodded in understanding. "Like Sabbacc," Anakin agreed with a nod.

"With the clones behind us, this should go well. They have more outside information than we do, and they have the unique privilege of hearing every mumbled complaint of Sidious's high in command Tarkin," Luke predicted thoughtfully.

Ventress shifted when Tarkin's name was brought up, but said nothing. Yoda looked at Anakin with awe, and no little surprise in his eyes. "Trained them well, you have," he said as if he couldn't believe it was possible. '

Anakin smiled. "I like to think so. They inherited their good sense from Padme. I had nothing to do with it," he informed them. Ahsoka snorted. "Don't I believe it," she mumbled.

"You'll get your day to fight Sidious soon enough young ones," Obi-wan assuaged Luke and Leia then before Anakin could come up with a seasoned comeback. "For now: patience," Mace decreed. "And sleep," added Yavin as he stood.

"We have a long journey ahead of us. The fates are unfair, but not unkind, this just may be the freedom drums we've all been waiting to hear," he suggested cheerily. The others stood with him, and Anakin nodded. _If I have anything to say about it,_ he silently vowed.

"Well, I think this meeting is adjourned," Ackbar decided after a moment of silence, glancing around as if he half expected never to see their faces again. Anakin realized that the chances that he wouldn't were not low numbers. They were slaves to Sith.

Maybe the next day, they would not see each other again. His stomach clenched. "We shouldn't push our luck," Padme said to him softly. "We should head back," she said. Anakin nodded, numbly. "I know," he whispered back. He hated to leave them all here, knowing that his family was not coming with them this time, but they had no choice. They were slaves.

"Come on guys," Han said casually to Ventress, Ackbar and Yavin, jerking his head back the way they'd come. "Let's get you out of here," he said. "Back to the dungeons we go," Lando then told the politicians, who smiled dully. "Don't I know how you all feel," Padme groaned as she stepped forward to receive her hugs. "We're proud of you Padme," Bail said softly.

Anakin turned to the other Jedi. "I wish I could free you now," he admitted, guiltily. "So do we," Mace snorted, crossing his arms. "Survived this long we have, survive longer we will," Yoda lectured. "All good things come through struggle and time, Anakin, we'll have our day," Obi-wan added.

"And that day is gonna _rock_," Luke hoped. "Well put," Master Fisto chuckled. Ahsoka stepped forward and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What has gotten all of us through is faith in the prophecy; it won't wear out now that you're here. It shall only grow stronger," she promised.

Anakin had to struggle to hide the depth of emotion she touched with her words. He could only nod, and squeeze her hand before he turned back to Padme and the twins.

With that they left the world of the slave behind.


	23. Bully

**_Two days later:_**

~Ventress's POV~

The world Ventress thrived in was dark. There was no other way to describe it since Ky had been murdered. Her entire universe just seemed like a dark mass, with little light to compensate for her losses.

Since the day her master had died, the way she saw the world had been tinted then, with the binds of blood and grief, so that a raincloud followed her everywhere she went. After that event, there had been no turning back to a normal life on the planet that had become their home.

His face was everywhere, in everything she had touched. So, she had torn the world apart so that she would not be forced to look at it.

There was little in Ventress's life that did not have something to do with the dark. She did, after all, still use the Dark Side. She fed on her own anger and pain. The Dark replenished through struggle and murder. It was the circle of her life, and it had been long time since anyone had questioned that. Kai might have, but Kai was dead.

One tiny speck of light in her life was the Rebel Alliance. The morals and ideals her master had given his life for, now he had passed to her through hereditary means, without even being present. Thus, like a moth attracted to the light of a lantern, Ventress clung to the Alliance, and all the responsibilities thereof with an irrevocable grip.

She hid behind the excuse that she hated Dooku, which was true. She hated him more than Sidious, and more than she had ever hated Grievous, which was really saying something.

He had committed the most heinous crime…He had_ betrayed_ her. He had discarded her and all she had done for him with no scruples. He had declared her worthless.

So, in retaliation, revenge, as the Jedi termed it, she joined the Rebellion, and gave them her all just to irk him. Where once she followed all his plans to the letter, now she did everything in her power to thwart them, to make his life horrible, as he had made hers. At least, that was what the rest of the universe assumed.

The truth of the matter beyond that excuse was that Ventress loved the rebellion, she _needed _it-the only real source of life she had in the universe, the only thing that was _right._ That Ky would have been proud of her for.

So when it was threatened, when there was the slightest dilemma, Ventress was the one who was called in, because she would do what needed to be done, without any scruples.

If Ky could die for it, then she could live for it.

And being a part of the Dark Side was a bonus, because then she did not have to worry about things like a conscience. Her anger blinded her to that inner voice, quiet and hopeless because of its continued ignored existence.

Nevertheless, just because she did not listen to that inner voice did not mean that she didn't possess common sense enough to send Mara away while she took care of their little friend.

Dex had looked at her quizzically when she had dropped Mara Jade off at his diner well after the closing time, nearly bouncing with elation to hear another story.

The kid was so…Childish at times that it partly irritated Ventress and partly amused her. How could such a child, who was defiant to the last, fearless to a fault, toughened beyond the skin, have such an innocence still inside her?

Asajj had no clue how she should regard the little spit-fire, but she knew that Mara liked Dex, and he would watch her while Ventress was busy.

When the old man had seen the look in her eyes, he had nodded without a word. Ventress had been able to tell he did not approve of what she was doing, but nor would he attempt to stop her from doing it.

He had tried before only to have his attempts rebuffed. She was doing it for the Rebels; it was for the greater good.

_ "__Excuses only last so long, my girl,"_ the lizard had grunted before turning to his captive audience of one. Ventress had ignored him and his wise lectures that if she really wanted, she could go to Ackbar or one of the Jedi, who, pointedly, were enslaved because of their beliefs, because they weren't strong enough.

Ventress was, she was even strong enough to pretend that hadn't heard it when Mara had waved after her happily, calling _"see ya later, Saji! Be good!"_ in a moment of rare childishness.

Yes, Asajj Ventress was strong, and proud, and she was doing the right thing for once. The fact that she used the Dark Side and unorthodox methods to do it; meant little.

Like a cat watching the mouse beneath its paw squirm, she watched her victim on his knees before her, breathing hard, his hair plastered to his face with sweat. Desperate brown eyes looked up at her as he gasped for breath, hatred and fear mingling clear in the depths.

Ventress snorted. He did not know real hatred. He had no idea what the emotion felt like in earnest. Her eyes roamed his near to naked body, taking in the inventory of disasters she had caused along his skin.

In truth, she _was _impressed. There were not many men of any species who could withstand the heat of knives that she held over the fire until they were white and glowing, before pressing them into sensitive parts of his flesh.

True, he had fainted, but then again most men did a lot worse than that. He hadn't vomited like some people she knew.

_Which is good_, Ventress recounted. _Because Mara's wet blanket smell is still in the air. Bad enough I have to deal with that,_ the thought of Mara flashed past her mind absently before vanishing into the list of things she stowed away when she did this.

"Are you ready to talk now?" she inquired calmly as she gazed down at him. Gasping, at a loss for appropriate words at the moment, the man spat at her feet. Ventress's teeth clenched.  
"Impudent bug," she growled at the man who knew where the Prime Minister to Sidious lived. He wasn't of major importance to the Sith, really, but if Ventress could get her hands on him and _'persuade'_ him to tell any vital information he was sure to know, then all the better. She just needed to know where the chrome head was.

The thought of the look the Admiral was sure to give her, bordering on respect and wariness, was enough to fill her with determination. She was good for something after all; she would attest it with all her might and will.

She would not fail this time, and no man, no woman person or thing would ever call her worthless again. Ventress was strong, and she would _prove _it when she brought in new evidence for the panicking Alliance.

Suddenly, the measly bug, one of dozens she had tortured, was in the air, and Ventress relished the power that swamped through her as he gasped, bound hands going to his throat airlessly.

"Stop!" he gasped, hoarse voice pleading. _Coward,_ Asajj scoffed in her mind. If there was one thing she could not stand, it was cowardice. Ventress squeezed a bit tighter, watching his face start to turn a light shade of red.

His legs kicked desperately but she paid no heed, paying attention only to the shivers of pleasure the Dark Side tickled up her spine because of the power she yielded over him, at the soaring joy of knowing that he was at her mercy, at this time, not being the slave but the master.

"Are you going to tell me now?" she inquired; easing her grip, knowing that she could not afford to lose this one. Ackbar kept her around because she got results, not because she was moralistic.

If she didn't continue to get results, even if they were in ways that would make Ackbar gasp and splutter with fury and disgust, then she would be out of the rebellion.

She would lose the only light she had in her life. This thought alone was enough to make her grip harden when he breathlessly shook his head. "I am…No traitor….Rebel witch!" he gasped. Ventress shrugged lightly, unfazed by the insult, and let him drop.

She had made him scream and beg only minutes before_. It's a bit too late to reclaim some semblance of honor now,_ she thought.

He landed on his hands and knees. Ventress stalked to stand before him casually, as if she were merely strolling down the street side looking for a caf stand. "A traitor? You mistake me, commander. I don't want you to be a _traitor_," she purred as she strolled in a circle around him. Her words had a string of truth in them. She didn't want him to be a traitor.

A traitor was someone like Dooku, someone like Sidious, who had thrown her away as if she were trash. _As if I were nothing. All the work I did for them, all the battles I fought, and they treated me like nothing_, the old rage inside of her boiled beneath the surface as she thought about it. He whipped his head around at every turn to watch her fearfully.

Ventress smiled delicately, letting the silence sink in dramatically, a trick she had learned from Count Dooku, before she carefully gave a light leap to land in front of him, as giddy as a young girl. The Dark flowed around them both in the dim light of the room, cheering, encouraging, whispering.

She was in a sea of darkness. Leaning down, Ventress took a chiseled chin in her hand and held the exhausted head up to stare into brown eyes that, had she looked closely, would have reminded her of someone else's.

"I want you to be a _patriot,"_ she whispered in his ear, seductively. The man shuddered in revulsion and terror. "Even if I knew what you wanted to know, I'd never say!" he spat in her face, his rancid breath making her wrinkle her nose. Ventress pulled back, letting his chin fall to his chest as she glared down at him. He was only making things harder for himself.

"Fine," she said merely. In a flash of movement that even to her was invisible, her leg came up and with astonishing speed and precision, landed squarely on his vulnerable hand.

She felt the bones beneath her foot snap and splinter. He answered with a sickening scream that echoed throughout the entire building as he jumped backwards, holding his broken appendage.

"It'll only get worse," Ventress warned, advancing upon the sobbing man as he scrambled away from her, holding his hand and gasping past his sobs. "I don't know! Please, I DON'T KNOW!" he screamed, turning agonized brown eyes up to her in a silent plea for mercy.

Ventress flicked her saber into her hand, and gave a tight half smile. "We'll see," she replied placid in her doings, so placid that she did not notice the door open, and a solid bar of light fall across the ground. So immersed in the Dark Side she did not detect the small, red headed figure standing there, mouth agape and eyes wide with horror.

Ventress raised her saber, crocked sideways so as to catch him in the shoulders instead of the neck, but just as the swing started to descend to slice the skin of her prisoner, there was a call from the Light.

"Saji, NO!" Mara Jade shrieked, right before she catapulted herself in front of the man in a moment of blind heroism, shielding his body with her own. The tip of Ventress's crimson blade created a threadlike kiss from left shoulder to lower abdomen on her young charge. Mara gasped as the force of the sting made her stumble backwards into the lap of the stunned man.

Ventress spluttered, dumbstruck. Alarm, rage and concern flitted through her fast enough to become a mere blur. Her mind reeled. _What is she doing here? She's not supposed to see this! _

Ventress did not know why she was so concerned about Mara realizing just _what _Ventress did to get the information that did not come straight from the Jedi, the things she did when the child was not around.

Her heart hammered in her chest, whereas a second ago it had been slow and syrupy, the air hazy as if she were in a trance, wading underneath the water. Ventress did not think she could have had a more surprising wake up call if Ky himself had suddenly leapt before her blade, or more worried about the wound inflicted.

"Mara?" She demanded, as if it could be someone else, unconsciously using the girl's first name for the first time since they had met. Mara, her thin scar shining an almost golden neon in the dim light, cauterized before it had ended, but still burning with immense pain, stood between Ventress and the man on the floor with shoulders squared back.

With her flaming red hair flowing behind her like a headdress of fire while her green eyes blazed with fury, and the Force swiveling round her as if a tornado, she looked years older than her real age. Ventress was taken aback by the passionate beauty of the girl standing before her, a face so different from the grubby emaciated features that she had met in an alley weeks before.

So different from the girl who had waved goodbye from Dex's shop like a normal child. This wasn't just a girl, or a child either, this was a _Jedi, _one of the most powerful.

And she stood between Ventress and her prisoner with all the fearlessness that Ky had displayed when he stood between the innocent and wrong doers. In fact, his eyes had blazed with the same righteous fury.

Ventress was astounded by it, and envious that the same thing did not glow in her own eyes. Ventress had never expected to be intimidated by a ten year old girl so much as Mara made her hesitate in that moment, made her unafraid vehemence dissipate as if it had merely been a child's tantrum she were throwing.

"What are you _doing _here?" Asajj asked breathlessly. "Help me," the man pleaded, gripping onto Mara's cloak with his one good hand as if she were a protector, grasping her with a need that made his knuckles white. The coward, hiding behind a child.

"Please, help me. I-I don't know what she wants to know. I don't, I swear," he blubbered, gasping past his sobs. "Oh, shut up!" Ventress snapped at him, irritated by his sniveling. "Enough," Mara spoke calmly, though with no less authority than the Princess she assumed she was.

It was enough to shut Asajj up; that was for sure. The man's sobbing came to an abrupt end; as if her words had strangled off any sound. It was eerily quiet as they all stood, regarding one another with mixed emotions.

Swaying slightly, face paled by the wound to her body, Mara Jade turned to the prisoner and waved a hand at the door. "Get out of here. Go home," she growled, giving him a gentle nudge with her foot; that belied her tone and hard eyes. The man's eyes widened, and his joy was like a stab in Ventress's heart.

"Oh yes mistress!" Despite his wounds, the man was fast enough on his injured feet to hurriedly stagger toward the open door. Ventress took a step towards him. "No! Get back here!" She shouted, about to use the force to snatch him back, but Mara intercepted neatly, her eyes still outraged.

Ventress skidded to a halt and straightened her shoulders as if she were sizing up a dangerous enemy. "Get out of my way, kid," she hissed, pointing at the escaping little sleemo irately. "He's getting away!" She reminded her.

"Are you _proud _of yourself?!" Mara answered, and this time it was in a shout that seemed to resonate through Ventress's head with a thousand voices all asking the same thing._ Are you proud of yourself?_

The force snapped as if it were rubber band that had been stretched to its limit. Small hands clenched themselves into fists. Green eyes glowed with iridescent fury and hurt., What was the kid so mad about? Ventress was promoting the greater good here!

_Are you really, Asajj? Or are you promoting yourself? _

Ventress chose to ignore the ghostly voice of someone she had once loved more than life. Ky was dead. He couldn't possibly know better than she what was best for the land of the living.

"Are you proud that you tortured him? What are you, an animal? A cat that likes to play with its food? A little kid who tears the hair out of its doll?" Mara Jade demanded. "What are you talking about? He was the _enemy_! I gave him the chance to tell me, but he didn't want to!" Ventress shouted back. Mara did not back down.

"He didn't _know_, that's why! He told you that! Why'd you do it then, huh? Even _I_ could sense he was telling the truth! What were you thinking, Saji? How could you want him to be scared because it makes you feel like you're better than him? That's just a bully, you are_ not_ a bully!" She screamed, emphasizing this faulty belief by stomping her foot.

Ventress was taken aback by this. Who was this child to tell her such things? "You…You don't even know me!" She spluttered. Mara snorted as if this was the most preposterous thing she had ever heard in her young life, her resentment unabated. "And you know what? IT'S STUPID! You're a coward," she decided. Ventress felt as if she had been smacked.

"What do you know? You're just a child; you don't even know what cowardice is!" Ventress snarled back, her own fury rising to meet the bait. "Why was he tied up then?" Mara then demanded.

_Where did you even come from? _"Are you scared he's going to hurt you?" Mara then challenged. Ventress snorted at the utter ridiculousness of that statement. She had been the one to capture him after all, and it had not even been all that hard.

"Of course not, I could have taken him any day. In fact I did," she responded. "Then why did you have to tie him up?" were children supposed to ask questions like this?

"So he wouldn't have escaped," Ventress scoffed, unsure why she was taking the time to bother and explain this to an eleven year old when her prey was getting away. Something was holding her there, and she did not like it. "You're not strong enough to make sure he can't escape?" Ventress blinked. "Listen, you…"

"Well, _Asajj_?" There was something very unsettling about the way the kid used her correct name instead of the lively nickname that Ventress had grown accustomed too with her.

"You're just a kid," she answered softly, and then went to sweep past, but her way was once again blocked. "Yeah, I am, and I know better. You're stupid, and cruel and…And…And do you think its funny to make him scream? Do you_ like_ it?" Mara screamed.

"I do what I have to do, okay?" Ventress snapped back, feeling increasingly cornered. "Why did you have to hurt him that way? What crime did he commit, huh, Ventress? What lives was he threatening? Where's the emergency, because all I see is you, here, trying to hurt another person like a petty _bully_!" Mara shouted; trembling, her face pallid and suddenly her eyes glazed over, blazing with a rare fire. The force extended, the Dark Side shirked away from the inferno of rage that was finally being released.

"That's right, you're the KID! You don't care about anyone but yourself, You're selfish and mean and cruel and empty and I_ hate_ you! You hurt people because you think it makes you better! You do this because you think it makes you strong! But you aren't! You are not, Saji! You're just like _him_!" she pointed at the door, toward the distant outline of the Sith palace.

"Father was cruel and stupid and mean and empty and I hate him just like I hate you! I didn't do anything wrong, I didn't _know_! He just wanted to feel powerful, but he's not, he's the worthless one, he's the stupid one, he's the one who can't ever do anything right! He's just like YOU!" roared the small child; and this finally declaration seemed to leave her exhausted.

Swaying mightily now, she plopped own unto the ground, unconscious of the bloodied spot the man she had let go beneath her. Her eyes, already wide with shock from her injuries, were unnaturally clear in the dim light.

Ventress stared down at this living apparition of her conscience, too shocked even to pull forth any anger. No one had scolded her so fiercely in decades. Who was this child to do so?

_She's everything you need, Asajj. _

Okay, Ky was not helping her plight for some semblance of calm and rationality. At length, though, she asked softly "you're father did that to you?" indicating the wreckage of her own mayhem around them. Mara did not seem to want to look around to get a good idea of what Asajj was talking about. That was weakness, wasn't it?

It was, but perhaps not a _bad _weakness. Because no matter what, Mara was not a bad kid, she was rough, but not bad not like Asajj, Ventress had seen enough of the small girl to know that herself.

Mara looked up weakly, trembling, her fury apparently spent, her shoulders slumped beneath the memories of a horrible time before their meeting. Cautiously, the memories of Dooku and his own abuse of her loyalty flashing before her eyes, Asajj knelt in front of the small girl, coming eye to eye with her, and gently brushed away a strand of silky fire.

If anyone knew the feeling, she knew what it was like to be called worthless, stupid; and a good for nothing. She remembered it well. It was hatred of that time-of those people-and her own need of revenge that had propelled her on these past years in service of the Rebellion.

_If I'm doing it only for revenge, then am I really helping the greater good, or myself?_ This question had never come up before, like many things had never occurred to her before. Mara ducked her head away, stubborn until the end, refusing to look Ventress in the eye.

_She's as good at holding a grudge as I am, _Asajj thought absently as she took the tiny chin in her hand, much more gently than she had done earlier to another, and steered her to look in her eyes.

"Mara," she repeated softly. "What did he do to you?" Asajj's heart was thumping in her chest, hoping with a frenzied need that whatever the monster had done, it would not have lasted long, or taken some innocence that shouldn't be taken.

And also, Ventress knew that if he had, she was ready to go tearing out the apartment, drag Tarkin to his knees, and kill him then and there for having defiled a little girl.

Really, it did not matter. It should not matter anyway. But it did, and there was no denying that to her, this mattered. To Mara, it was important, and so to Asajj it was doubly so.

For the first time in her life, someone_ else_ mattered to Asajj Ventress. She had no idea how to handle the feeling, and even less of an idea about how to go about fixing the mistake she had made, whatever that mistake was, because she could sense the fragile trust between the two of them had long been severed.

She had never cared, or noticed, bonds before, much less severed ones. Unyielding, she forced Mara to meet her eyes, and held them with her own, staring into a soul that was as fierce and untamed as her own…But a soul that had no need of revenge as an outlet.

It was slightly unsettling to see Ventress's own pain, her own sorrow and anger in another's eyes, and someone else so young. Her heart gave a pang, the heart that had been dormant many years.

_I didn't know that was still there,_ she reflected. At length, Mara seemed to glimpse something in Ventress's eyes that broke the wall holding the story at bay. She sighed heavily.

"I…I did something before I ran away," Mara mumbled despondently, finally. "I stole something from S-Sidious's room, to get father to pay attention to me. I thought it'd be a good idea. I think it was a paper or something. I didn't know what it was," Mara gulped.

"B-but when I tried to show him, he didn't even look at me. He didn't care. So I screamed, and he called Ackbar to calm me down. I gave it to him. It must have been some important war stuff, cause Ackbar took it fast," Ventress inhaled sharply, realizing that the innocent child avocation had handed the Rebels a vital piece if information, and had also put Mara in grave danger.

"The Rebels, they knew what Sidious was going to do before he did it, and father remembered the paper I took. He…He was mad. I didn't mean to make him so mad…Sidious didn't care though," here the girl shrugged, eyes flicking down, then up again.

"He just smiled and patted my head, said I'd make a good a-apprentice someday because I was so sneaky, that he was going to destroy the Rebels soon anyway," assuming he had known Anakin and Padme would be captured soon, or he had been able to sense another victory coming his way by means of war. Sidious was getting cockier in his old age.

Mara's fists clenched and unclenched. Pain flickered in the force. Ventress felt stirrings of anger not on her behalf. "Father…He decided to punish me, even though Sidious wasn't mad. He said what I did was bad, that I could have ruined his reputation, that I could have gotten him in trouble with Sidious. He called me stupid, and trouble. He locked me in a room down in the dungeons," Ventress beetled her brows, outraged, and met the echo of her emotions in the green eyes that stared back at her.

"It was dark, I couldn't see anything…I was scared, and he didn't give me water or food or a blanket…It was cold, and he left me there a long time. I don't know how long. I felt rats and heard them; I thought they were voices. I started crying, and when he came down, I…I lost it. I just wanted out. I tried to tell him I didn't like it, I tried to say sorry, but he was mad, he said good Sith didn't cry. He hit me, and he wouldn't stop hitting me," she sniffed.

Ventress gulped, as she slowly took her hand away, aghast at being compared to such a vile creature. _What do I say now?_ For a long moment, they just stared at the mirror before them, both of them unsure of what to say next. Both could feel the other's rage, though pain from Mara's injuries was starting to fade the ache. An injury that Ventress had committed.

She had abused this girl, just like Tarkin. Just like Dooku had done to her. The very thought made nausea crawl up her throat. An unexpected seizure of guilt seized her. For the first time in almost fifteen years, Ventress felt her eyes glisten, they were moist.

"So what now, Saji?" Mara whispered hoarsely, emerald eyes digging into Ventress's rigidly. "Are you going to start hitting me, too? Go ahead. If you think I know something about Sidious, go ahead and do to me what you did to that man," She stated bluntly, without fear.

Ventress sat back, stunned. The very thought of laying a hand on Mara made her muscles tense, as if she could run from the accusation and resolve in the girl's voice.

"I would never hit you," the words popped out of her mouth without thought of them, yet Ventress found she had never meant anything so much. Mara smiled bitterly, as if she did not quite believe her. "What if you thought I did something wrong? What if I made you mad?" Here the young girl gestured to the thin kiss of anger that Ventress had left across her chest.

"How many times am I going to feel this, Asajj Ventress?" she demanded and it was a fair question. Ventress only wished she had a fair answer. She wished this situation had started out fair to begin with. It wasn't fair that Mara should have to had seen that. It wasn't fair Ventress had to be questioned like this by a child. It wasn't fair that Ky was taking the girl's side.

But mostly, it wasn't fair that they were mirror reflections of each other, and yet Ventress had almost killed the young girl in her quest for revenge. Anger, and hate and revenge took people to great lengths, but there was no limit on what they would make a person do.

_There are a lot of things that revenge is worth, but not the kid. She's innocent. She didn't do anything to me but save a man's life. A man I was going to kill. _Her own thoughts frightened her. She had never doubted what she did, had never had cause to hesitate.

Now Asajj Ventress did. It had been a long time since anyone had questioned, or told her, what exactly was wrong with her and her reasoning.

She was used to being criticized. That was an easy enough task. But being_ told_ and _accused_ was another thing altogether. She had been accused of being many things, Dooku among them, but never had she been accused of being a child abuser, of being a monster.

Ventress found that she did not like the title. Slowly, she let her gaze wander past Mara to the blood on the floor, and she heard the man's screams in her mind again, only this time she shivered with disgust, not pleasure. _"…That's just a bully, you are not a bully!"_

Hesitantly, her gaze landed once more on Mara.

The young girls' eyelids were dropping, her pallid face softening into unconsciousness, but she remained awake only by strength of will. The force was tingling with her pain, and Ventress cringed when she remembered the gasp that had accompanied the cut.

_This wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't want to hurt the kid._ However, as she handled all things, this girl handled her own pain with strength.

Strength and bravery enough to stand between Ventress and a man she had not even known. Strength enough to look into Ventress's eyes and tell her that she was a coward. Strength enough to sit before her and tell her the story of her and Tarkin.

That was a strength Ventress had never possessed, a strength she had sensed many times in others, and had envied, yet while she did envy it in Mara, it was the sort of envy that did not leave her smoldering with loathing or smarting with indignation, but squirming with shame.

Shame was a new feeling for her, an unwelcome and unbidden but deserved one. Shame opened her eyes so that she saw not a necessary evil, but a wretched act of selfishness.

For one of the first times since Kai died, Ventress spotted a flash of light amongst her darkness, just like the day she had seen it when she looked into Obi-wan's eyes after Jabiim and seen forgiveness instead of hatred.

She had respected Kenobi ever since, and the same respect grew in her for Mara. _Hitting her is out of the option, I guess,_ the Sith considered as she gently but firmly, half to keep the young girl upright and half to provide comfort, reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

Mara looked up, blinking rapidly, and stared at her weakly. _What do you say in these sorts of situations?_ Ventress wondered helplessly. "I won't hurt you, I don't think you're worthless, stupid or a good-for-nothing, no matter what you do wrong," it was as good as she was going to get. Tenderly, Ventress took one of Mara's limp hands in her own and shook it in a steel assertion.

"I promise…Partner," she whispered. A flicker of a smile crossed Mara's features as her eyes settled into closing once more, and Ventress felt her hand squeezed lightly. She was forgiven. "I knew…You'd get it sooner…Or later, Saji," the ten year old gasped breathlessly, before she collapsed into Ventress's arms, unconscious.

The older woman caught her and turned her slightly, cradling the exhausted form in her lap as if Mara might vanish at any moment, and as if Ventress would miss her terribly if she were to go.

Startled and in shock of what exactly had just happened. After all, it had been too many years since she had developed a bond with someone, mainly because a bond required trust.

Asajj Ventress did not_ trust_…but she did hold Mara for the rest of the night.


	24. Late night voices

~Padme's POV~

"I would attempt to talk you out of it if I didn't already know it was hopeless," Anakin said, with a sigh, gazing at her with a mix of worry, fear, exasperation, admiration and affection. Padme feigned ignorance.

"I haven't done anything yet!" She protested. Anakin gave her a lopsided smile and let his eyes wander over her shoulder into the room that used to be his as a child, where now his own two children slept soundly.

It was ironic, how once they had considered raising their children on Naboo, and now both of them were in the exact same place where their father had grown up.

As Jedi, in the Jedi Temple. _If only the situation weren't so warped,_ Padme thought. She and Anakin were lying side by side in the giant bed that the family had inhabited several nights before.

Through the ray shielded shutters, moonlight and the lights of Courascant streamed into the modest abode, casting a faint light upon the bed. Anakin's face was illuminated in the pale blue light, the angular juts of his chin and cheekbones shining like small opals, his skin almost translucent.

His brows were dark, and eyes had a faraway look in them, his lips pursed into worried apprehension. It seemed every time she laid eyes on the man he merely became more beautiful. In any other situation, the scenery might have been romantic.

Hover cars swooped past and life went on outside of the windows. It was mocking, and unfair that trapped were they within the confines of slavery, chained not by physical restraints but by love itself while the universe continued unawares.

"So you say. I mean your getting involved with this, Padme. I wish I could convince you and the twins to wait quietly in here while I try to save the Order…If I thought that you would give a damn," he mumbled.

Padme was gratified to see that Anakin got the picture. She put a hand on his cheek, knowing he was only worried for their safety. As she worried for his. "We'll be careful," she promised. Anakin nodded, and she saw him gulp. "I know you'll try," he growled bitterly. "But that doesn't matter so long as the Sith are concerned," he grumbled.

"What has Sidious been doing with you anyway?" Padme asked, worriedly, when she saw the lines of sleeplessness beneath his eyes. He had been every morning, then returned to the room at night, and then again so forth. He always came back with a look of strain on his face; though he took care to hide it from the children.

Padme saw it clearly, and it filled her heart with terror every time, terror because she did not know what Sidious had done to him, what the Sith_ would_ do to him in time.

There were so many maybe's in this situation. There was so much to lose, and yet gain. "Nothing," Anakin scoffed. "He just takes me to attend his Senate seminars. Force, half of me misses the old Senate. At least there was some good, old-fashioned argument in that. Now they all just nod and agree with whatever Sidious says. It's beyond boring," he harrumphed.

"That's what you do all day?" Padme inquired, surprised. She had expected something more…Cruel. Not that she was not aware Anakin labeled listening to politics as one of the high tortures. The very fact that he had begun to miss the old Senate told Padme just how horrible this one was.

"Yes it is. He insists I'll learn something from it. I think he's just trying to make me wait, giving me time to anticipate what he's going to escalate too, trying to see how easily I become complacent…That's why I haven't slept in awhile, I've been meditating, preparing myself," he explained.

Padme shook her head at him. "That's what he wants, Anakin, he wants you to _think_ about it. Besides, you need _rest_ as well as preparation," she pointed out. "I knew you'd say that," Anakin moaned. Padme had to smile, even if it, too, was stressed. She suddenly sighed and took her hand away.

"I wish I could protect you," she whispered. Anakin smiled and ran a hand through her hair, gently stroking, smoothing, his eyes affectionate. "You sound like Obi-wan," he teased her. Padme could not very well argue with that one. "You know how much I hate being helpless, Anakin." She reminded him miserably.

"Getting out of here through the vents…That's my way of being able to do something, to help you. I don't want you to ever think you're alone…But you are. I can't stop Sidious from doing what we know he will do to you to thoroughly _mess up_ your head," Anakin chuckled at that one.

Padme found nothing funny about it, but her husband could find the humor in just about anything. She believed it was how he had survived on Tatooine all those years. It was how he had always managed to cheer her or calm her when it seemed the universe was falling into an abyss. "You can do something, angel. You _are _the something, you know," he whispered to her, gently.

"Don't you realize you protect me by merely breathing? You protect me from desolation, despair and depression just by smiling. You_ are_ my light, and as long as you live, darkness has no hold. That is why I need you to be careful. I can't lose you," Padme shook her head, tears springing into her eyes.

"I don't want to live to protect you, I want to_ help_ you. I'll be careful, and you know the twins are more than capable of taking care of themselves once they straighten out the kinks of being like their father," she tried for an unconvincing smile. Her tears seemed to stimulate some in Anakin's own eyes.

She saw his throat move as he swallowed hard, and kissed her forehead. "It kills me to know that I can't save you, Anakin," she murmured, as she wrapped her arms around him as if she could meld them together, and through that keep him safely inside herself, forever.

"I feel the same way, love. I've always felt that way. It kills me to know that its because of me that Sidious torture the Jedi every day, it kills me to think that you'll have to wonder and worry over me every night, and that the twins have cause to fear that they might lose their father. I hate myself for being helpless to prevent it, but," she felt the chest beneath her cheek rise in a long sigh.

"We are Jedi," he whispered into her hair those damning words, a title that no mortal heart should ever have to bear, a name that meant suffering and despair in the face of evil.

"This is our life," he reminded her. Padme nodded, as a tear slipped down her cheek. She felt her heart cracking beneath the stress of fear and behind the veil of disillusionment.

She had been in denial until now, but her stomach clenched as it had the first night Anakin had journeyed unto the battlefield and she had laid awake, alone, in her bed at the 500 building shivering with terror for him.

She had not felt this young, this helpless, this vulnerable since she was a child. "I'd never choose any other," she said softly. "But that doesn't mean that I didn't wish I'd allow myself to choose something else," she agreed, cherishing his skin against hers…For tonight.

One day Sidious might take him, and not give him back. She might not see him until this was all over, if it ever did end. "On our wedding day," Anakin mumbled against her forehead, his lips caressing her skin in a kiss. "If you had known I'd put you through all this, if you had known what was coming, would you still have married me?" he asked.

Padme snuggled closer into his arms. "No," she mumbled, hiding her face from the deceptive moonlight. Anakin flinched as if he had been struck. Padme smiled against his skin. "I would have drunk ten bottles of Corellian rum, and_ then_ I would have married you," she answered.

Anakin's arms tightened around her as he chuckled softly. "I love you, angel," he promised. Padme nodded in agreement. She did not know what she had done to deserve such a fate, such abiding love, but she had it, and she doubted Anakin would let go even for her. "I love you too, Ani."

* * *

~Dooku's POV~

They whispered. It was not often, after all, that Yan Dooku ventured from the protective enclave of his chambers. The older man kept himself locked away in there for hours and days at a time. No one saw him come out to eat or relieve himself, to fight or break up fights as he was wont to doing, even Sidious had ceased calling to him for missions.

Overall, the Sith brotherhood had all but forgotten his existence.

So Dooku was not surprised to see them whispering as he transversed the halls, his black cloak fluttering round his ankles and his face set in stoic silence. They dared not approach him, Dooku knew. He knew about the demons that swirled around him in the force. He could sense them just as everyone else could sense them.

Only stronger, because they were his demons, and they tormented him, tearing him apart, from one side to the other without end. It was if the Light and Dark Sides of the force were fighting over him, both trying to lay claim on him, trying to assert his soul and allegiance as their own.

_I wish I had a choice in the matter, _the older man thought with a bitterness that would have been discouraged within the halls of the Jedi Temple years earlier, when he had been a Padawan. His eyes swept past the trashed walls, eyes crinkling with disgust. They were Sith, so why did they live in a place that resembled a hovel?

_Dark lords, we are nothing but cattle wading in our own muck,_ he decided in a scoff, remembering the Jedi temple before it had been annihilated. It had been a place of peace, and beauty, the grand halls and exquisite backgrounds and environments all nestled beneath one roof amazing to behold.

_It was as if it were a castle,_ he remembered, with a touch of wistfulness. A palace for protectors of an expansive land; now destroyed. Yan sighed as he passed several rooms, rooms which he had grown up in, rooms where he had trained Qui-gon, rooms where he had secretly watched Qui-gon train Obi-wan, and wondered how he could have let the others destroy such things. _It was to save the universe_ he recalled to himself, this being the main excuse for his doings over the years.

The excuse, as all excuses inevitably did, was getting old.

When he had first joined Sidious, he had imagined a palace for himself. Over the years of the Clone Wars, he had lived in a castle, matter of fact. He had been royalty catered to by servants, and entire army laid out at his feet. He had been at the top of the galaxy.

He had expected to stay that way. He was unsure why; perhaps he had been lying to himself the entire time. For had not he, of all people, known about Sidious's lust for power?

And he had listened to the man, genuinely believing that Sidious would give him a throne of his own when they defeated the Jedi. _Killed the Jedi, as I remembered him promising me, not enslaving him. I told him once that the Jedi bow to no one. He is an arrogant fool. Like that queen from Kadavo,_

Dooku snorted, remembering what had happened to that matriarch. The Jedi were, in a way, more wild than the Sith; not by behavior or maturity, but by believing that they _did_ have free-will, and thus were free.

They would never stop believing it. He knew: he had once believed it too. They had simply needed a spark of hope. The Jedi were well versed in making it into a flame.

Skywalker was that spark of hope, he had always been, him and that prophecy. When Dooku had gotten word that Sidious had brought him to the Sith palace, along with two powerful twins who had been trained as _Jedi,_ he was appalled. How could Sidious be so _blind_?

Dooku passed by the guards stationed at the foot of the steps that led down to the mines, his golden eyes being more than enough clearance for entrance. His knee joints popped and groaned as he worked his way down the steps.

His entire head of hair had turned into a silverish white by now. He used the force to enhance memory and sight, both of which were starting to fade with the strokes of time.

None of them were immune to it. Another lie that Sidious had sold him. The sounds of the mineworkers below echoed up the stairs, which glowed a bright orange/red from the fires.

Dooku coughed lightly into his sleeve, force, how could anyone stand the smell? He was not even sure what to call it besides rancid. "So uncivilized," he muttered.

Dooku, admittedly, had never been into the mines before. It was below his time and position, along with much of the Sith Temple nowadays. He liked the confinement of his private quarters.

The sounds rang unpleasantly against his ears. Finally, at the bottom step, he blinked away the soot and dust in the air and removed his cloak.

It was _burning_ in here by all the Force. In the force itself pain and misery ran a jagged scar, and yet beneath the scar was a shining light of something…He could just faintly grab unto it before it slipped teasingly through his fingers, tantalizing and laughing at him. Dooku had the distinct feeling that the light was making fun of him.

Then again, he had that sensation often. Particularly since he had been inside of the Crystal caves of Ilum. The sensation that the light was close; that it was waiting for him to do something, but would not reveal what it was. The feeling was _maddening, _and so like the Light.

Calmly, he made his way along the balcony. Both brows shot up as he noticed the Jedi below, and the Sith prowling behind them with whips in hand, sharp eyes looking for any sign of slowing down or even a weakness to exploit.

Did not they have anything else to do with their lives? Why did Sidious keep the Sith here, wasting his time on making sure the Jedi stayed in line when there was an entire universe he could be ruling?

People to keep beneath his thumb, a rebellion that was growing in both size and supporters. One of the only ways he had managed to keep the Confederacy beneath his thumb was by bribes and complacency.

If Sidious would just give some benefits, throw his subjects a bone every once in awhile, instead of neglecting an empire to its own devices, perhaps The Rebellion would not such an issue. It was almost painful to see the talent of the dark Side wasted on such a small thing as whipping Jedi who should not even have been alive.

Dooku was unimpressed. Yes, it took a_ great_ amount of intelligence to be a slave driver, nothing more than bully with a whip in hand, and authorization to call it something else.

His eyes wandered, disgusted and smoldering, over the ragged bodies of Jedi and other force users. _This is not only uncivilized but dishonorable,_ his heart rebelled.

For once, Dooku agreed with it. The Jedi had been clever and fair adversaries, every hit they had been delivered had been counter struck with adaptability and fierceness of spirit that had bested them many times. They deserved the champion's death, not slavery and constant humiliation.

What good did it do to fight if you weren't fighting to kill? Whatever happened to 'no prisoners'? What had happened to the sith that they would stoop so low? Mixing humans with non-humans, Jedi with non-Jedi, putting women in a mine, and trying to train children to do their bidding?

Jedi children were no different then the adults. Dooku had been there when that boy…What was his name?

Qe-Azen or something of the sort had struck out against the Sith authority. That was the first sign that their hold of the Jedi was slipping. Not even a few months later, Skywalker shows up.

It disgusted him. There was no planning, no organization; this system was_ imperfect_, and idiotic. He was part of an imperfect and idiotic system.

Dooku felt his fists clench when he saw that the Sith bullies had gas masks on, and were not at all uncomfortable, considering that they were given water and food to devour in the corners, taunting the Jedi with it. Like _school house_ bullies.

Dooku rolled his eyes. The weak could be exploited; he did not mind that, what he did mind was that they were doing this for one reason: because they wanted to prove themselves better.

A sudden memory flashed before his eyes, of a conversation he had had inside of the Crystal caves, _"Isn't that why you want to be powerful? To prove how perfect you are? How much stronger you are than everyone else?" _

_ "__You aren't impressing anyone you know, and especially not I who can see your every insecurity," _A fan of fire roared within him, Dooku's eyes whipped to his Sith brethren and he walked up to the bar, noticing that on a segment of the bars the metal had been bent to the point of snapping.

He had a good idea of who had done _that._ Some part of him applauded Skywalker for damaging Sith property. After all, they had destroyed everything else themselves. "Hey, you!" One of the Sith; he could not remember the blasted fool's name, pointed to an older slave, not one of the Jedi; Dooku believed they descended from the Awaji.

the slave turned, slowly, as if her mind had been somewhere else completely. An old metaphor flashed before his eyes: you can find the greatest freedom in your mind.

Were these people even there, in body, perhaps, but in mind and soul? Were the Sith really enslaving them or merely trying to get to something unattainable? She was loading the giant slabs of crystal ore into a large metal cart. The other slaves did not stop their work, though they cast conspicuous glances over at the woman, in sympathy and silent encouragement.

The other slave drivers turned to see the havoc descending, interested, and moved towards her. Not a speck of fear showed on her face. Dooku was impressed. She merely watched them circling her with serene passivity. "What'cha goin slow for, huh?" _Honestly? You stopped her from doing her work for __**that**__? _The slave driver-his brother- crept closer to her face, close enough to grin wolfishly at her. She didn't blink.

"Do you need me to warm you up?" he inquired. The other Sith gathered round snickered and cracked their whips with agreement, calling out taunts. The slave woman's eyes wavered for the slightest second. The Dark grabbed her fear and capitalized it with a roaring trumpet blast.

At the same time, a burst of sudden righteous anger ignited his veins. Dooku's ignited lightsaber split the air with its vibration. A silence descended upon the room. The Sith looked up, and the slaves as well jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. He felt all eyes swivel to him.

The words came out of his mouth smoothly, without conscious planning or thought. _"Enough_," his command carved an electrifying shockwave throughout the room. "I have an order from Master Sidious," he declared, loud enough for his own voice to echo within the cavern.

"In order to give Skywalker more incentive to come to our side of thinking, he has ordered that all slaves within the mine be given fresh water and a five minute break once a day, at this time _without fail,"_ his eyes hawked over the room.

"No more beatings or _tampering,_" his eye landed on the fool who had begun the entire thing. "Without just cause or reasonable provocation. We shall demonstrate our _compassion_ for his friends. For are we not merciful?" He allowed a demonic smile to take the place of his scowl.

Understanding bloomed on the faces of the Sith bullies below. "I see," Deathdera hissed, her eyes alight with this plan. "We heed the master's words," another called out, with his own wolfish grin.

Dooku nodded. "Very well. I shall convey that. And take care not to mention our plan before Skywalker," who-thanks to Sidious's own stupidity, was with him at all times- "understood?" Nods all around as the Sith, grinning, started to round up the slaves to take their water break.

The idiots.

Dooku felt satisfaction and pride flow through him at his own genius. Who said that you couldn't teach an old dog new tricks? Suddenly, he felt a…Not exactly a presence but a _sense_ of a presence next to him. An ethereal wind whispered in his ear _"you never cease to amaze, master,"_ and then with a deep chuckle, the apparition was gone.

Dooku stood, dumbstruck, realizing that the words he had just uttered, the command he had faked, had not been an invention of his own, but he himself had merely been the vessel. A vessel of the _Light_, something he had not been nor _wanted _to be for many decades.

The tantalizing sense of the Light wanting him to do something settled into a feeling of a job well done. _I am not a Jedi!_ He shouted to the force, only to receive that same mocking chuckle beside his ear.

Dooku looked down at the Jedi being filed out, and was surprised when he looked directly into the eyes of Mace Windu, who was studying him curiously. Hesitantly, unsure of whether the gesture would be returned, Dooku nodded to his old friend.

He was gratified to see a sincere perk of the lips accompany his nod, along with a blossoming expression of understanding in the other man's dark eyes. A thought floated across the currents of the Force, a message directly for him. _"Thank you…Yan,"_ Then, with a single nod of his own, Mace followed the others into the secluded backroom to reap the benefits of Dooku's gift, a gift he had never meant to give, but was not…Unhappy to see delivered. The sound of his own name, said with such an expression of both gratitude and admiration, touched something.

Dooku refused to acknowledge its presence. Turning on his heel, he decided that his work was done, and he silently made his way back to his own quarters with light of heart.


	25. Mechanics kid

~Leia's POV~

"Are you two_ absolutely_ confident you can do this?" For the tenth time their mother asked, her anxiety palpable presence in the force around her. She looked at them with a worried expression.

"We're sure," Luke replied for the umpteenth time, more patient than Leia was by a hairs breadth. "You know we can't risk anything here," their mother dropped down from the vents above, landing fluidly on her feet, as if she too had trained for feats such as this at the side of Jedi.

Leia had always admired that about their mother, how easily she seemed to be able to keep up with them, without force powers of any sort. It seemed her mother was an inspiration for all beings that did not have force sensitivity, living proof that they could still make a difference, _alongside _Jedi if they wished.

She carefully lifted the vent's top and carefully placed it back into it's slot, making sure not to have anything out of place, not even to disturb the dust coating its top.

"We spent almost three years doing it, mother," she pointed out. "Practice is well and fine, but it's still only _practice_, twins," came the obvious retort. Their mother stood akimbo, brows drawn in a stormy line of contemplation as she gazed into their souls with deep brown eyes. "Which is why we need to try it," Leia agreed smoothly.

"Besides, there must come a time when we're going to be forced to do it anyway….Luke and I can't always come with you, mother. Our missions lie elsewhere," she reminded the older woman reasonably. "We'll be careful," Luke added helpfully.

Padme gave Leia that special smile that said she understood and was proud of the diplomatic air Leia gave off whenever she opened her mouth, but the grin faded beneath the seriousness in Leia's eyes.

"And you're positive you can shield me and yourselves from the Sith safely?" She questioned again. _"Yes,"_ Luke and Leia repeated, exasperated. Leia watched as Padme bit her bottom lip thoughtfully.

Leia's patience gave out. "You worry too much, mother…remember that year we spent on Courascant, me and Luke hid our force signatures at all times there. After a few hours, we didn't even need to focus on it anymore," the target hit target accurately. Courascant, and the year spent there, when their parents had divorced, was an unspoken but yet unresolved conflict within the family-at least for Leia.

Luke cast her a sharp glance, but Leia did not back down. Not even between the two of them did they discuss Courascant, and the nights they would listen and cry whenever their parent s fought. He wasn't the one who had learned how to strangle a person, so consumed with blinding hatred and hurt, at the tender age of _four_.

_He doesn't feel anger as you feel it. He's not like you_, for once, she agreed with the Dark Side's sentiment, even as she violently shoved it away. Luke was more prone to feeling sorrow, rather than anger. She was the one with the quick temper.

He was more temperate. He did not feel as strongly as she felt-sometimes it seemed he did not feel at all. It was just forgive and forget. But the truth hurt-and as a politician Leia knew it. Her mother knew it too. She nodded, after another r tense moment.

"Alright," she conceded, reluctantly. "I'll allow you two to go down to the hangars, but stay low, see what you can find out. Maybe Han and Lando will help you," she volunteered.

Leia smiled; thanking the force that Padme trusted them with not only their own lives but hers. She rolled her eyes at those two hooligan's names. She, for one, took her father's stand view on picky and puff-ball. Luke nodded and gave her a reassuring smile.

"If anything goes wrong, you'll know it," he promised cryptically. Leia had found that they were equals as far as the mystic; mysteriousness of their personalities went.

"I know. I'll be in the dungeons with the other senators, if you need me," swipe a bit of hair from her face, the former queen leaned down to give them both quick kisses on the forehead which Leia wanted to tell her they were way too old for thank you very much.

Her expression seemed to convey the message. Padme smiled patronizingly and gave them a small nod. "Ready?" She asked. "You're all set," Luke replied as their own force signatures wrapped around her own, obscuring the light beneath with light of their own, a Light that could blend within the darkness effortlessly.

They had perfected the art at four years old, Leia had no doubt they could do it now, despite stretched distances. There would be no failure; there couldn't be, perhaps their family and father's life depended on it.

_Besides,_ Luke tried to say comfortingly when Padme gave them both last singular look, eyes glittering with either pride of anguish Leia was unsure, before she turned abruptly on her heels and made her way to the dungeons lying in the opposite direction.

There was something reminiscently painful about the way she did that, and Leia realized that her mother had gazed at them like that because there was a good chance, a spectacular chance that they may never see one another again, especially if any of them were caught between two feuding Sith.

This was not merely a see you later; this was a _goodbye_. The thought chilled her spine. Despite the fact that both of her parents were leaders for the Rebellion, Luke and Leia had never really encountered war before, or its deadly flaws. They had sensed it, seven years earlier they had created machines for it and even helped land a_ cruiser_, but in the rules of war their accomplishments meant little to nothing.

_We're Jedi. Jedi don't fail; right?_ Luke continued, in the thick silence that followed their mother's protective presence. Leia shook her head, wishing that it were true, wishing she could believe it, but she could not.

"In war they do," she reminded him.

Later:

By the time that Luke and Leia finally managed to finger their way to the hangar bay, almost two hours had passed. Sith did not often wander through the halls, in fact it was becoming rare to sense or see them at all.

Leia doubted that they had explored even two tenths of the Jedi Temple that they had so cruelly conquered.

Still, the promise they had made to their mother bade them to cautiousness. "Finally," Luke sighed, as he followed Leia from the corner they had been hiding behind in order to scout the area in front of the door for danger, as they had been doing for all the halls that they went through.

"Running and crouching, crouching and hurrying, my legs are burning," he complained as he stretched out of place.

Leia rolled her eyes at him, but had to agree. She was beginning to discover that hard work on the farm and in the market were not the same things as hard work being Jedi.

_You are learning many truths that should have been explained before. Why were they not?_ The Dark Side asked. Leia pushed the troublesome thoughts away, hating herself for listening to the words, for understanding the meaning.

She would ask father about it when he returned, ask him how she could best protect herself from the Dark Side's chants and tantalizations tickling at her reasoning.

"Mine too. We'll blame it on Han when we get inside," she proposed. "We aren't here to start arguments, Leia," Luke informed her sternly.

"Which is why I advise you to let _me _do all the talking," Leia agreed passively, pretending that she did not get his point. She reached for the button on the door, only to have Luke grab her wrist before metal and hand collided.

"Leia…" he warned softly. She looked back at him, startled to see him glaring at her suspiciously. "Relax, Luke. We're on a mission. I know how serious this is. Calm down," she said, hurt by his lack of faith in her. "I just don't want you to ruin everything," Luke growled.

He released her wrist, but nonetheless kept his eyes on her as if he suspected she would bolt. "I don't want me to ruin everything either," Leia agreed, turning to face him fully. He looked…Angry. Her face softened.

"Hey, Luke-calm down, okay? We're _Skywalker's_, remember? Children to the fabled Chosen One. And not only that, we're Jedi. We can do this, but if we're going in there, you'd better believe we're going in there as a team, alright?" She demanded firmly. Luke's eyes softened.

He exhaled slowly. "Y-you're right, Leia. Sorry. I just…I feel so _helpless_. I'm trying to be brave, trying not to let father down, trying not to let my guard slip or make a stupid kid mistake, I guess," he gave her a lopsided, rueful smile. "I'm trying to be perfect," he admitted.

Leia reached out and grabbed his shoulder, squeezing. "You don't have to be perfect, big brother," she whispered. "You just have to be Luke-that's good enough most of the time, and when it isn't, then you have_ me_ to back you up. You aren't alone, I don't want to mess up either, but this is not the time to be pushy. Trust me and I'll trust you, deal?" She suggested, soothingly, understanding the feeling. Luke smiled and reached out hand. Leia took it, two hands clenched together to make one fist.

"I've got your back," her brother promised his eyes holding the truth of this statement. Leia nodded. "And I've got yours, no matter what," for even if the universe were to spiral into oblivion that minute, Leia knew that she would go out of it the same way she had come in, at Luke's side.

They were twins, inseparable, unconquerable, there wasn't a time when they had wanted to be anything different. They were _one._

With that thenceforth established; Leia reached out and pressed the door open. Hesitantly, they walked into the large room, surprised. The Hangar bay was not like any they had ever seen before.

For one thing, it appeared to be in complete chaos, but in the force this layered symphony of hurrying slaves, tool boxes and crates of wires had a certain _order_ to it.

What order Leia could not fathom, but there was no arguing with the force. "Wow," Luke mumbled, his large eyes straying from one ship to another. There were hundreds here, in the large and elongated room of trophies.

Some were small ships, like Sith starfighters, and others were as large as the gunships that used to be in the belly of every Republic vessel. There were even AT-AT walkers.

Leia was impressed by the variety of ships and vessels too, but more so by the mechanics working on them. They were all children, roughly in the ranges of ten to sixteen, as far as she could tell.

People of every species skittered about quickly, faces smeared by grease as they loped between vessels with efficient, hurried steps, most of them carrying boxes of various wires and metals.

A few Artoo units, badly rusted and sputtering, rolled past but otherwise there were no droids present. It was all done by hand. _That_ was rare. The light inside of the place was blinding, it was as if the Sith had planted suns above them, so closely that the light was over illuminated.

The force was not as dark as the rest of the palace, more of a mischievous undercurrent of unpredictability that adhered to Leia. "Come on, it's a minefield in here," she said, tugging on Luke's arm. "We have to stay low- we don't know who we can and can't trust," she reminded him. Luke nodded and raised his hood, keeping his face down.

"We need to find Han," he agreed softly. Leia raised her own hood, letting the force guide them through the maze of people. Most of them didn't spare Luke and Leia a second glace as the two of them swept through the crowd, swift as the shadows that danced along the ground. After a few moments of silent navigation, where Luke took the lead, they heard Han's voice call out from somewhere nearby "hey, Chewie, hand me that sticker, would you?"

_Should have know he would be the loudest one in the room_, Leia thought as they trailed the sound as if they were feeling their way along a golden thread to safety. Indeed, the golden thread of Han's obnoxious volume did indeed prove to be correct.

He was working on a rough terrain speeder, and doing horribly, if one wanted to judge by the stray pieces flung here and there around the machine without care or thought, but Leia had learned to look beyond the sight when watching her brother work on his machines. _"It doesn't matter where you put the pieces,"_ Luke had told her.

_ "__They don't need to be organized, Leia, they just have to be there when you need them," _sort of like people. It didn't matter where they were in the galaxy or how far away they seemed to be, if they were always there, then it got the job done just as well.

From a small toolbox a few feet away, Chewbacca the Wookie was rifling through its hap hazardous contents, roaring his disapproval of the method of Han's search. Leia cocked a brow, wishing she knew what the Wookie was saying. It was obvious Han knew, or at least could tell by the tone of roaring the large person used.

Next to Han was a young Togruta girl. She looked no older than eleven years old. Her short, stubby Lekku were colored green and white, and the tattoos on her faces were freckled around her nose and mouth. Large green eyes, expressive gazed at them curiously. Leia did not meet her eye.

Han looked up when he heard their approach; his eyes were a dark shade of mahogany, a reflection of reddish brown leaves in the light. Leia inhaled sharply. They were beautiful. Han did not seem pleased to see them.

Both brows shot up as he stood from where he had lain, checking the underside of the small speeder. "Well, well," he observed, loud enough to be heard over the commotion of the hangar bay but soft enough so that the entire vicinity was not graced with his loudness.

"Doe-twinkle's kids," he observed dispassionately. Chewbacca turned, surprised, and emitted a puzzled noise of question. "Yeah," Han said, nodding. "I thought they were locked in a room, too, Chewie. I guess we know they can come in and out as they please, unlike the rest of us here," sardonically, his eyes swept them over.

"And not a speck of engine grease on you. Haven't even come to work, bunch of freeloaders," without waiting for them to answer or defend themselves, he turned to the girl beside him and lightly touched her shoulder.

"Lily," he spoke softly. "Go on and get me some more wires. These ones are caput. Look for the green ones, you hear? Green," he repeated, watching her face intently for any signs of confusion.

The other girl snorted and gave him a sarcastic look. "I _know _what green looks like, Han," she informed him huffily, as she stalked away to do his bidding. Han waited until she was out of earshot to grab a small rag near where he had been sitting and wiping his hands. "What are you doing here?" he demanded of them without preamble.

Luke deferred the negotiations with the wild heathen to Leia's expertise. "Scouting for information," Leia replied without pause, determining that the blunt approach would be best suited for this situation.

Most of the time she preferred eloquence to forthrightness, there was just something more satisfying in word bandy when it came from a real opponent, but she was well versed in many different forms of language.

Han scowled. "So shouldn't you be, oh I don't know, snooping around some Sith quarters or something?" he asked. "We would," Leia agreed amiably enough. "If Sidious knew that we were able to come and go as we deem fit. Since he doesn't, we've been snooping round with the slaves, helping out where we can, picking up tidbits of information to help father with his mission," she told him, since she had noticed the few nights before that Ahsoka trusted him with part of her spying work.

He was thus reliable. To her astonishment, he nodded in understanding. "Makes sense, but can't the Sith sense that you're out here instead of where you're supposed to be?" he asked.

"We're shielding our Force signatures. As far as they know, we've died suddenly," Luke piped in, explaining. "I'm sure the thought gives them joy," she snorted.

Chewbacca came in closer, integrating himself into the private circle. None of the passerby's seemed disturbed or surprised to see Han talking confidently with hooded figures, Leia figured he probably did it often. Han further amazed her when his eyes widened slightly.

"Shielding? You can do that?" he gasped. "You know what it is?" Leia asked hesitantly in turn, most force related subjects were strictly for knowledge to those who knew the art of using the force. Surely Han couldn't know that much about it?

"Yeah, Obs told me about it once, but he said it took years to perfect, and only older members did it…Not even Qe could do it," he told them, eyes darting from one to the other as if they had suddenly sprouted wings.

"We're fast learners," Luke shrugged. Chewbacca let out a huff that Leia recognized as a grunt of admiration. She briefly wondered who Qe was, but decided not to push the subject,. Another thing had snagged her attention though.,

"You call Obi Obs?" She demanded, incredulous that the usually dignified master would allow such a breach in protocol. Han snorted and crossed his arms. "You call him Obi? How childish can you get?" he retorted. Chewie nodded in agreement, copying Han's stature.

Leia exchange a glance with her brother, now that they thought about it, the name was a bit juvenile. Though, they had forever called him Obi, never anything different. True, that had been when they were five year olds, but still, the name stuck…

"I guess that's true," Luke admitted, for the sake of time and diplomacy. He looked around, gesturing. "So, how do things work around here? And why is everyone a kid?" he asked.

Han shrugged. "We don't really have a social order, here. Everyone is one and the same, equal. True, some of us make the bigger decisions for the group, because we're older or something, but otherwise we all share what we have and have what was shared. I'm the top mechanic," his chest swelled with pride and ego.

"I can fix anything and everything faster than anyone here," he boasted. "Really?" Luke looked bored. "Well, we'll have to work on a machine one of these days, see if you're as good as your word," he observed dispassionately. "You fix things?" Han asked curiously. Luke nodded and gave wolfish grin. "I _am_ my father's child," the smile faded.

"If there's no social order, then how do you know what to do?" He then inquired. "What do you mean? What else is there to do in here?" Han scoffed, waving a hand to encompass the wide array of ships and tanks.

"We fix stuff, anything that doesn't look or sound right. Sometimes a Sith will come in here, when he wants a private vehicle or is being sent on a mission somewhere. He'll call one of us over to fix anything wrong with the vehicle he wants, but other than that the Sith don't bother with us any," thoughtfully, Han stuffed his hands into greasy pockets.

"We don't have it as bad as the other slaves, no one is down here looking over our shoulders, which is why it makes it easy for us to be the eyes and ears of the Rebels," he tapped his forehead. "As for all of us being kids," he squinted at the massing crowd as if he had never noticed before.

"I dunno why we're all young. It's always been that way, I guess. The adults are usually higher up in the palace, doing menial chores. Still, most of the slaves the Sith have close at hand are Jedi. The ones who are normal are kitchen staff or maids; people that aren't really noticed," _that _was interesting.

"Once one of us gets too old the Sith come take them somewhere else. Either to the mines, because there are dozens of them, the hardest to mine go to the Jedi, or to house chores," he explained.

"But these people _do _listen to you?" Leia sought to clarify once more. He blinked, as if the question confused him. "I guess you could say that. I'm not the leader or anything- they just trust me," he said. Chewbacca let out a derogatory sound that obviously meant _'he's leader.'_ Leia agreed with his assessment of the situation.

"Trust is leadership," Luke decided firmly. "Good. We might need that," he nodded to Leia. "For what?" Han demanded. "We're not sure yet," Leia admitted. "We only know that it could come in handy later. Don't ask when. The Force doesn't give specifics," she said.

Han let out grating, bitter chuckle. "That's what Qe used to say," he reminisced. Chewbacca let out a mournful sound of fondness. "Okay…Is there anyone down here that we can't trust?" she asked. Han gave half shrug.

"Like I said, the Sith don't bother us much, there's no one to really tattle too. I would not risk it though, don't get too friendly with anyone. Sidious might want to ramp up the security, even down here," he reminded them.

"Great," Luke growled sarcastically, even though their father had already warned them of this that morning. "Where's Lando?" Leia wondered, looking around for the other boy as if he would materialize out of thin air.

"Scouting for the Sith. That's his job, remember? When he get's let off, he'll come down here. Sometimes I don't see him for days," Han's voice was sour. Leia had a distinct feeling that he did not agree with this arrangement.

Chewbacca let out a short snarl. Han patted his arm. "Yeah, I know Chewie. Hey, we have to get working on that speeder again. Come on, Skywalker, let's see what you got," he dared, waving Luke forward.

"Ah, Han, you could have saved yourself, but alas, you let pride have the last word," Luke yawned, stretching his arms over his head as he walked up.

Han snorted. "Shut up, fancy boy. I'm from Corellia, okay? We're king fixers there," he informed him.

"Yeah, so are we from Tatooine," Luke responded as he too an seat next to the older boy, wrapped in his own thoughts. Leia exchange a glance with Chewie, shaking her head.

"There they go again?" She suggested, thinking to make an alliance. Chewbacca nodded and let out a grunt of affirmative. Leia exhaled, glad that she had an ally in this strange place.

"Well, while you two glory hounds are trying to mutually destroy that poor piece of machinery, me and Chewie will be off helping others like _charitable _people," she informed them contemptuously. Luke waved a hand dismissively, without looking at her.

"Bye," he replied absently, probably not having heard word of what she said as he studied his newest project. Han called back something about them going to the hells for all he cared, and bring him back his green wires while they were being charitable about it.

_Someone is definitely unrefined,_ Leia thought, shaking her head, denying the fact that Han had now piqued her interest. With a look shared between her and Chewie, they made their way through the hangar bay crowds in order to begin their charity work.


	26. Freedom in spirit

~Lux's POV~

Lux Bonteri had found that the most freedom inducing place, the only place where you could always, and at any time, find true freedom, was in the mind. Happiness, as the Jedi would put it, came from the inside.

It was hard to remember that when you were a slave. Lux ducked against the whip that snapped over his head, muscles tensed to absorb the blow should it hit as the former leaders of the Rebellion were rounded up, and escorted to their work. It was meaningless work.

Lux would have found it at least a bit more stimulating if he were doing something worthwhile. The Jedi were at least able to mine important crystals from beneath the Temple.

Their work was not completely wasteful, if not willful. The Sith could not afford to kill every Jedi, not if they wanted people to cater to their every wish and decree, not if they wanted the iron that the Jedi mined.

But those that were imprisoned most of their time, instead of enslaved, they were worthless, and _every_ attempt to remind them of this was made by the prison guards.

There was no reason to keep them alive other than to keep the Jedi in line. _It's all a big circle of blackmail,_ Lux realized, having heard the report from Bail and Chu-chi, whispered softly thro ugh metal bars, about the Jedi's plan. He wished Anakin luck.

_We keep the Jedi in line, the Jedi keep Anakin in line, Sidious is a genius, an evil genius, _he thought, marveling at the simplicity of it, and yet the cruelty that must exist in one's mind to use people against one another in such a fashion.

Lux wondered how Anakin was taking it. Or the twins, by force! "Hey!" the whip snapped dangerously close to his arm that time. Lux did not flinch, though his body jerked away instinctively. Coming to an abrupt halt, he looked down into the thin, scrawny face of Stick. Or, all of those who knew him called him stick, including the slaves when they were not heard.

Up front, his name, like all of those considered above them, was master or sir. No matter that Lux had been addressing people in this manner seven years, the sound of it was still acid on his tongue. The other prisoners behind him in the line looked down, eyes smoldering. Seven years had not broken their spirit, only made them more docile.

"Sir?" he asked, wondering how the clones had been able to say it for so long so easily, or perhaps they, too, had felt injustice burn in their hearts when they spoke the syllables. He hoped not. He never wanted another person to feel this rage, or this pain because of him.

"I know that look, scum, that's the look of a man slacking off his duty," of course he had to look over at Lux just as he was starting to drift off into his own world. Lux failed to see how slavery was a sort of duty, but far be it from him to argue with a man appropriately nicknamed stick.

Lux made his eyes flick downwards, avoiding eye contact. "It won't happen again, master. I'm sorry," _sorry that I don't have a blaster right now so that I could finally put you out of your pathetic existence. _

"Make sure it doesn't," suddenly, the butt of the whip smashed into his nose. Lux stumbled backwards, falling to his knees as stars danced in front of his eyes. Blood rushed in his ears, drowning out all other sound as head-splitting pain rocketed through his face.

His touched a finger to his nose and felt blood_. Oh, great,_ he thought, looking up to see Stick moving aside, gesturing roughly for him to stand and move on. The words the slave driver spoke were lost to the rushing of blood in his ears.

He felt hands grab him beneath the arms, helping him to stand; Stick glared and snapped his mute whip at them obviously displeased by the show of empathy. Lux felt rage boil within him, but he calmed it.

This was not the time nor place for it, any impudence on his part could have disastrous effects for the others. Lux couldn't let that happen. Stumbling to his feet, trying to think past the pain making tears spring to his eyes, he staggered forward.

Hoping that his nose weren't broken, he followed the line of silent prisoners into the courtyard, and cringed backwards when sudden brightness blinded him. He cried out, the pain exploding behind his eyes and through his head. He was gently nudged forward by whoever was behind him. The gentle message was clear.

_You've got to keep going. _

He nodded, ignoring his throbbing skull and nasal. Using his flesh hand to protect from the intensive heat of the sun above (was it even a sun anymore, or had Sidious used the Death Star to destroy it and now used only artificial lights? He had heard a rumor about that somewhere) he kept going, keeping his eyes mostly closed.

Since the Rebel prisoners were mostly kept in darkness much of the time, the welcome warmth and illumination should have been a gift. Instead, it was piercing agony.

Lux had never hated the sun so much. Or, to be more specific, he had, but not as deeply as he did now. The courtyard was at the side of the Sith Palace, in open space. The large square was spiked off by an electrified fence.

There was no escaping to the outside world so close.. Ahsoka had said that once it was a playing field for younglings, where outside games for force manipulation as played. It used to be a sunny, pleasant area, blocked off from the rest of the world, where laughter and playful competition was flagrant.

Now the grass had withered and died, been crushed by several dozen piles of massive rocks. The blood rushing in his ears slowed, sound started to slowly come into focus.

He felt a benevolent hand grab his elbow and lead him away into the farthest corner of the courtyard, where a fresh pile of giant stones and pick axes awaited them.

Lux glanced at Bail's worried, tanned face and gave slight nod of thanks that he didn't have to open his eyes any more to see his way to his spot. In a span of time that took minutes but felt more like centuries, he finally arrived at his pile.

Lux touched his nose briefly, and was relieved to feel that no bones were broken.

He still had a splitting headache though. Ignoring the impulse to lie down and sleep, he picked up a pickaxe and carefully moved forward to roll a rock into his area of sight so that he could pretend it was Sticks' head and crush it. He heard a soft sound from next to him, and cautiously turned towards it.

Bail, without looking up from his own stack next to Lux's, was speaking without looking at him. Lux strained to hear the words. "…Broken?" he heard.

_He's asking if my nose is broken,_ Lux realized, and gave a slight shake of his head, taping his forehead instead to indicate that he thought maybe his brain had been ogled just a bit too much.

Bail nodded in understanding and bent to his task. Lux let his mind wander as he continued with the back breaking work, wondering where Ahsoka and Intrepid were, if the twins' were alright, what Sidious was doing to Anakin, when he would see them gain…

Tirelessly, his brain went to the image it always escaped too when trying to avoid pain. The celebration that they had spent on Naboo, celebrating Intrepid's knighting ceremony. He remembered it had been spent in one of Padme's private lake houses, where she and Anakin got married, actually.

"_Ahsoka!" Anakin yelled racing after his old apprentice. Ahsoka came running out of the back rooms, a devilish smile on her face as she clutched Anakin's lightsaber to her chest. _

_The Jedi knight followed her heatedly. _

_Nava glanced at Obi-wan, sitting next to her on the couch. Intrepid and Padme shook their heads at the shenanigans, turning back to their task in the kitchen of trying to cook the fish Anakin had caught earlier that day in the lake. Luke and Leia laughed from their place on the floor, clapping their tiny hands excitedly. "Run, Soka! Run!" Leia giggled. _

_Obi-wan chuckled softly, eyes dancing as he watched them, Nava grinned and leaned against him, tucking her feet beneath her. They were the perfect picture of a happy couple. Lux wished he could see that same happiness on their faces more often. _

_He leaned back in his place in the small wooden rocking chair smiling. Ahsoka pounced over the couch acrobatically, missing the top of Obi-wan and Nava's heads by a hairs breadth. "Intrepid, heads up!" She called throwing the lightsaber. Anakin lunged just as it left her hand; and both went plummeting to the floor in a tangled heap. _

_Intrepid caught it with one hand easily; she studied its shiny surface with a scholarly air. "Force above, Anakin, what do you do? Spit shine this thing?" She asked. _

_ "__No. I taught him to polish it every day," Obi-wan stated knowingly. "And he made me read a book every time I didn't, so I'm in the habit now," Anakin agreed standing. He glared down at Ahsoka with exaggeration, his eyes promising later revenge. _

_He was about to use the force to snatch the blade when Intrepid tossed it to Nava, who sat up and waved it at Anakin temptingly. _

_ "__What is this, harass Anakin day?" The young knight growled grabbing a pillow and hurling at her. "Harass Anakin month, actually," Nava answered cheerily handing the saber to Obi-wan. She ducked the missile, which suddenly swerved in mid air to land in Luke's excited palms. Lux watched with fascination and amusement. _

_Obi-wan gave his friend an apologetic smirk and threw the weapon over his head, where Padme made an athletic jump to retrieve it. Anakin did a back flip over the sofa, and seized her by the waist, wrenching the blade from her hands. _

_Padme elbowed him in the ribs in response. Anakin answered by kissing her on the forehead lovingly. Lux laughed and looked to Ahsoka, who happened to be glancing at him. An agreement took place. _

_As one, Ahsoka, Lux and Intrepid grabbed pillows, coming to rescue Padme from Anakin. "Ah, come on, no fair!" the knight laughed as he was barraged with pillows. "Pillow fight! Pillow fight!" Luke cheered, encouraging this behavior gleefully. _

_ "__This is not the Jedi Way; I hope you all know that!" Obi-wan received three pillows in the face for his opinions. Nava laughed boisterously. "I suppose they don't care," he mumbled to the obvious. _

_ "__Oh, they should," Anakin, replacing his weapon dramatically back on his belt, said. He gazed at them with narrowed eyes, not in their defenselessness cannily. "Weren't you just Knighted?" he demanded of Intrepid. _

_Lux's friend gave Anakin a singularly droll look that gave all the answers. Lux walked over to sink back into his rocking chair, content to be near the balcony so that he could feel the breeze. _

_ "__Then again," Padme considered thoughtfully, turning back to her fish. "Being Knighted never stopped __**you**__ from acting like a child, Ani," she pointed out. "I second that statement," Ahsoka agreed, with a laugh. _

_ "__Hey, hey, no one ever said __**I **__had to grow up…"_

_ "__I suppose I'm no one…"_

_ "__Except for Obi-wan, and I never took the time to listen to whatever he said, so there. Besides, maturity is overrated," Anakin informed them. "What's overrashid?" Leia inquired curiously, mispronouncing since she currently only had about five teeth with which to use to speak. It sounded enormously cute anyway._

_ "__Palpatine's wrinkles," Nava supplied helpfully. Lux snorted in laughter, clapping his hands in agreement. "Wait, wait, Yoda's walking stick," Ahsoka piped in, with a look to Anakin, who nodded in agreement, laughing. "Jabba The Hutt," the Chosen one guessed. _

_ "__The Twilight," Obi-wan chuckled. Anakin chucked a cup at him. "I say the idea of a droid army is becoming __**very**__ overashid," Intrepid volunteered, emerald eyes twinkling with good humor. _

_ "__How about Sidious's 'we are in the final phases of ridding our peaceful Empire from the interference of the Rebel's speech?" Lux put in, mimicking their arch enemies' rasping voice. "Winner! I say that's the most overashid of them all!" Anakin announced. _

_ "__I'm getting tired of that one," Ahsoka sighed. "What about you, motha?" Leia asked, looking to Padme. "What's overashid?" She asked. Padme, who was currently trying to best her newest nemesis, the fish, in skinning it, gave them all an irritated stare. _

_ "__I say this blasted fish is overashid! Blast, Anakin what'd you get me, a demon eel? First you blow up all my blenders, now you can't even catch me a decent fish? What is the problem with this thing?" she demanded, exasperated. _

_Anakin, seeing an opportunity to prove his worth in the eyes of his wife, wandered over to inspect the immobile animal himself. It was quite large, almost four feet long and wider than Lux's arm span. He stared into the fish's globular eyes contemplatively, hand rubbing his chin. _

_ "__You know fish are slippery, angel," he reminded his wife. "I know that! I've skinned fish before. But every time I go to skin him he jerks, as if he's possessed. Demon eel," Padme scoffed irately. _

_The Jedi in the room gave her an odd look as Anakin went to poke the fish in the eye with the carving knife curiously. Suddenly, just as the tip of the knife touched the eye, the entire creature jolted and started wriggling around with violent intentions. _

_ "__IT'S ALIVE!" Padme screeched as both she and her husband jumped back, startled. Lux jumped, eyes wide as the fish managed to get itself off the counter top and started flopping around on the kitchen floor, taking gulping breaths of air. _

_ "__By the Force! It was dead; I know it was! It came back!" Anakin gasped. "Fishy!" Luke cried cheerily. "You two didn't know that? It's been alive the entire time. It just slowed down its heart rate so that you wouldn't know it," Ahsoka told them, her white brows beetling in confusion. _

_ "__You all knew it was alive and didn't tell me?" Padme gasped, hand going to her heart as if she were having a heart attack. "Well, we thought you knew dear. We thought you knew what you were doing," Nava explained._

_ "__I heard the fish is better if its kept alive for a few seconds before you skin it. I thought you were doing something like that," Intrepid agreed, lips perking at the sides. She walked up to the fish and calmly put a hand on its body._

_At once, the animal calmed beneath her touch, eyes swiveling to glare at her accusingly. "I'd feel bad if we ate the thing now. After all we've put it through," Intrepid said; eyes bright with compassion. "What __**we've**__ put it through?" Padme croaked incredulously. _

_ "__No way! I spent two hours trying to catch that sleemo! He's getting fried whether he likes it or not!" Anakin declared boldly as he strode forward and took the poor creature by the tail, about to place it back on the counter. _

_Before he could, though, the fish suddenly jerked around and with all the power behind strong muscles whacked Anakin square in the nose. _

_ "__Ow! He tried to murder me!" Anakin cried, dropping the animal as he staggered backwards, holding his bleeding nose. Lux couldn't help but burst into raucous laughter. The others except for Padme followed sooth. The fish flopped vengefully on the ground, giving Anakin a piece of its mind in burbling gurgles. _

_ "__Force,__** that**__ was funny," Ahsoka gasped as the laughter died down, holding her sides as she doubled over. "What da kriff, guys? Doesn't anyone care dat de ding just died do assassinade me?" Anakin griped as he held his bleeding nose. Padme, holding back laughter, reached up to dab at the blood with a rag._

_His speech, impaired by the nose hitting he had just received, only made them laugh harder. _

_ "__Masder!" Anakin whined. "Da demon eel hid me!" he complained loudly. Obi-wan, swiping away tears, sat up and gestured to Anakin. "Alright, alright, come here, Anakin. Let me see it," he called, chuckling. "No! You laughed ad me!" Anakin carried on. _

_ "__You're mean! You don't get do dake care of me," he said heatedly. "It was funny, Anakin. That was irony, and justice for you harassing that poor fish," Obi-wan lectured, seemingly more amused by the childish display. _

_ "__Fish lover!" Anakin accused, crossing his arms huffily. "What are we going to do with it now? Since its an accused murderer and everything," Padme asked, with a small chortle. "I say we kill id," Anakin harrumphed. "Considering its previous history I'd say we should just let it go, and fast. It's running out of air," Nava pointed out. _

_ "__He deserves id," Anakin growled. "Now, now, Anakin, have compassion…"_

_ "__Shut up, Obi-wan. My nose hurts," Anakin interrupted hotly. Obi-wan only chuckled, swiping away tears. _

_ "__Well, it isn't broken. Just your pride is bruised. I don't understand how a fish did what Sidious, Dooku, Grievous, and Ventress have been doing for years," Padme said as Intrepid gently picked up the now still animal with care and started to carry it back out towards the lake. Anakin glared as it went past., _

_ "__Demon," he bid it farewell. "Ah, justice," Obi-wan said merrily. "Nava, can I kill him?" Anakin grumbled, glaring savage murder at his best friend. Nava waved airily. "I suppose if you really need too," she responded. _

_Luke and Leia, who had been watching the exchange silently for quite some time, finally came forth with their input. _

_ "__Now __**that's **__overashid," they said unison. The others laughed for a long, long time. _

It was one of Lux's favorite memories. Suddenly, he heard a slight scuffle from behind his pile. Lux looked up, realizing that he had crushed ten more rocks into bits, and that his hearing had returned. The pain in his head and nose had dimmed to a dull throb and nausea.

His eyes caught a flash of something brown in the back of his pile. Frowning, he shook his head and looked down. He must have imagined it. Even so, it had seemed like a flair of brown hair…

"Lux," he jumped. He certainly had_ not_ imagined that. He looked up, and suddenly saw the deep brown eyes of Padme Amidala hiding behind the large rocks, sheltered by the mass from the prying eyes of the slave drivers behind them. He glanced at Bail and Chu-chi on either side of him to see that they too had paused in their wok to gawk at the apparition.

"Padme?" Bail hissed, glancing anxiously over his shoulder. "What are you doing here?" Chu-chi added angrily. "I came to see if you guys are alright, and to get some information," she replied quietly, eyes not on them but the slave drivers behind them. "Keep working," she hissed.

Lux look down, in his shock of seeing Padme magically appear he hadn't noticed that his pick axe laid useless at his feet. Quickly, he picked it up again and began working.

"Padme, do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here?" Lux growled at her. "I know, I know, but I had to see you all," she flashed an impish grin so like her husband's. "Anakin is _not_ allowed to be the only hero in this palace," she informed them. Lux was well aware, but all the same…

"Where're the twins?" Chu-chi asked between thrusts. Padme ducked a stray piece of rock that flew at her from the crushing. "Best you not know that for now. Don't worry, we've got it all figured out," Lux nodded. He wasn't sure he wanted to know anyway.

A bead of sweat ran down his temple. "It's good to see you," he admitted, glancing up. "The feeling is mutual. I'll have to remember to bring water; and some food next time I'm here," Padme muttered. "You shouldn't even be here!" Bail pointed out harshly.

She gave him a pointed look. "Bail, when in all the years you've known me has there ever come a time when I was anywhere that I'd been invited too?" She demanded. Bail did not answer.

Lux doubted he had one. "Don't worry, I'll be careful as I can. Anakin would kill me if I got hurt anyway. How many guards are there here?" She asked. "In all? Thirty," he breathed. "Any Sith?" he wondered what this information could do for her, but answered anyway.

"Not today. They're here most of the time though," Chu-chi answered. "How many?" Padme shot back, ducking another stray piece of rock. "Only about five at a time," Lux glanced at a lengthening shadow to his left. He twitched his head to Padme, but she had already ducked behind the pile. Stick went on his toes to peer over Lux's shoulder at the progress he had done so far.

Lux did not look at him. "Hmm," Stick growled, displeased with something. But he didn't crack his whip, which meant that Lux was safe for now. "Keep working, laggard," Stick sneered, as he walked away to invade someone else's personal space. Lux rolled his eyes when he had gone.

"Whatever you say, Stick," he mumbled. "Stick is right. He looks like his mother used him to impale his own father with and put him over the fire like a spit," Padme observed quietly, dark eyes following stick with hatred. It hurt to smile, but Lux could not help it.

"Something like that," he agreed. "How many prisoners are here?" Padme inquired, once more the interrogator. "Now? Thirty five. We started out with fifty," Bail's face fell, momentarily. At the memory of what had happened to them.

Even in the heat, Lux shivered. Bad things happened in the darkness of night, and especially down in the dungeons where there are only a few people liable to hear you scream. "Stars," Padme gasped, eyes sweeping over the area to take in the slaves there.

"I am definitely bringing some food and water. And the twins, to take care of distracting the guards while we pass it around," Lux was not sure this was the wisest plan, but the steel in Padme's eyes kept his mouth shut.

"Do you have a plan of some sorts?" Chu-chi asked quietly. "Not really. We're just getting a feel for everywhere there could be slaves, for when the time is right," Padme shielded her eyes against the sun. "Hopefully, that'll be soon," she muttered. Lux could not agree with her more there.

"You should get out of here,' he muttered to her. "Before you get caught," he side. Padme shook her head determinedly. "No. I won't leave any of you, we're in this together. Besides, I have nowhere else to go," she pointed out.

"Padme…" Bail warned. "Don't worry, I won't get caught. And I won't distract you from your work. I have some observations I need to make anyway," she replied. Lux could not help but tease.

"Since when did you become the war general?" he asked. Padme flashed him a small smile. "Since seven years ago when all my generals went missing. I couldn't let Anakin have all the credit," she chuckled. Lux nodded, his day seemed just a bit lighter now. He had missed her.

"As long as you don't get caught. Anakin would kill us," Chu-chi grumbled without any real bite. She sounded relieved herself. When the day ended, they would remember this beyond all things, and it would get them through the darkness of the dungeons.

"After he killed me, of course," Padme hastened to assure them. Then, without another word, she ducked back behind the pile and said not another word. Lux shook his head, chuckling, and hummed as he worked.

* * *

Whoo, starting junior year of high school today guys (I am so gonna die. I am not ready for this!) and someone yell at me to write, please? I usually come to months long hiatus of writing during the school year, but_ not_ this time!

~QueenYoda


	27. Paranoia, and wounded people

~Ahsoka's POV~

_Force, do I remember this place,_ was all Ahsoka could think when she walked into the deserted and small room. It had once been a playroom she knew. And if she could feel the Force, she predicted that in this room it was still stained with the shedding of innocent blood.

She remembered that being the case from the last time she had been there, anyway. Not only did Ahsoka remember it from her days as a youngling, running, shrieking through this room with the other younglings, giggling and oblivious to problems not of her own tiny world.

She also remembered this room because it was the one in which she had been married. Chuckling without humor, she remembered how long that matrimony had lasted.

A good five second, really, before Lux and she had gotten away with the other slaves. So many things could have went wrong that day. History could have been changed dramatically if Lux had not been there with her. Ahsoka wondered where she would be now if she had not had her friend's support.

She would never stop hearings Starkiller's voice as he screamed her name, in endless pain and grief after her retreating form. He had come to forgive her as time passed, but it was a scar between them that neither would ever forget.

She taught him how to love, what love and loyalty_ were_ but both knew she could never love him back. _Everything looks the same_, she thought. The aisles were unchanged, if not coated with a fine layer of dust that had not been there when Ahsoka had walked down them.

She ambled between them, memory flashing back to every Sith she remembered seeing sitting unhappily in the seats, torn in two, her own heart at war with what she would have to do in the meantime.

Starkiller himself had sent her to retrieve the rusted chain in the background of the small platform where they had been married. Ahsoka did not even want to know why he wanted the chain and what he was going to do with it. It was not her business to ask anyway.

Despite this, she knew why he had sent her, instead of going himself. She doubted he had stepped into this room since the day it happened. Shaking her head to dispense of the unpleasant memories, Ahsoka walked up and seized the chain still hanging from the wall. The room was eerily empty.

Suddenly, she heard the smallest creak on the floorboards. She snapped around, and came face to face with Yavin the Fourth, a mere few inches away from her face, a small pouch over his shoulder. He smiled at her teasingly.

"I see your Jedi reflexes have not waned with time and age," Yavin greeted, executing a flashy bow before her, hand sweeping the ground. His glossy black hair was tied into a single braid behind his head. "In the _name_ of…" Ahsoka did not finish the curse. Glaring at the silent man, she only yanked the chain down from it's post and began wrapping it round her arm. "Yavin, don't do that. My blood pressure is high enough, my friend. What are you doing here, anyway?" She asked, willing her heart to fall back into its balanced beat.

Ahsoka had learned to use her predator sensitive ears to pick up any noise around her. It would be a bad idea to get caught alone in a room with Sith, especially one of the males who figured that Starkiller could not protect her forever.

"I came here to speak with you alone," Yavin replied. Ahsoka perked up suspiciously, gazing at his face curiously, trying to get a feel for what the subject was. As usual, she could tell nothing from Yavin's expression, which was always and forever cheerful.

"I see. And what is the nature of this private call?" She asked hesitantly. "Its about Skywalker," Yavin replied, crossing his arms. His own eyes did not waver from hers. Ahsoka exhaled in relief. She had thought it was news like the universe was ending or some such. It would probably be Yavin to come tell them if that was the case. And he would do it cheerfully as well, so that they would never know what was coming.

"Which one?" she inquired with a cocked eyebrow, finishing with her chain ministrations. She glanced at the door pointedly. It was open. True, almost no one ever came down to this level for anything, but they could not afford to take the chance. Neither of them would sense it if a Sith were suddenly to arrive right outside the door.

In fact, Ahsoka was not all that sure _how_ Yavin managed you get in and out of the Palace without being sensed or noticed himself. Then again, she did not know how Yavin managed to pull off half of the stunts he did, she did not ask, only knew that she was grateful for it. She trusted Yavin with her life many times over, he had not yet let her down.

Quickly, Yavin hurried cross the room to quietly close the door behind him. He turned, lips pursed and eyes dark with thought. He scowled, remembering that there were indeed four. "All of them," he finally decided, as he was walking back towards her. "Very well. What about them?" Ahsoka asked.

Yavin took her elbow and eased her farther into the room, where their voices were less likely to be heard by anyone walking outside. "I don't trust them," he said, his voice no louder than a whisper. Ahsoka was unsurprised. The council had already foreseen this. She had been able to tell by Anakin's expression the other night that he was unsure of whether to trust Yavin, either. "I believe the feeling is mutual," she assured him.

"You have to think about this, Soka. This guy says he's been head of the spy intelligence for the past seven years, and the Senator has been Chancellor of the rebellion for seven years, and yet neither of them ever heard anything about you all being here?" He demanded.

"The Rebel Council just newly found out, didn't they?" Ahsoka retorted. "Yes, but…"

"Then if they didn't know why would Padme know?" Ahsoka interrupted coolly. "What about the supposed Chosen One, huh? Head of spy intelligence doesn't know here his intelligence comes from?" He demanded. Ahsoka had to admit that he had a point.

"There are thousands of spies spread all over the galaxy, Yavin. You have to admit, we're sort of at the bottom of the spy food chain. He can't know where every bit of info comes from. That's why he has the lowers," she explained. "It still seems suspicious," Yavin harrumphed.

Ahsoka chuckled softly. "Says the ex-criminal," she pointed out. Yavin glared at her indignantly. "I've proven myself," Yavin informed her firmly, as if she were not aware."But what about this guy? I mean if he loves you all as much as he acts like he does, then why didn't he come looking for you somewhere in the past seven years?" He demanded.

"He thought we were dead," Ahsoka answered, puzzled. "He thought so maybe, but why didn't he look for proof? He seems to me to be one of those men who likes the spotlight, am I right?" Cautiously, she nodded.

She couldn't lie to Yavin, he had a knack for seeing through people anyhow. It would be futile. "Well, then, how big a spotlight is this, Soka? Last living Jedi. Chosen one. Leader of spy intelligence. Hero with No Fear. Seems to me his popularity grew after the Jedi were out of the way," Yavin snorted. Ahsoka felt a chill run up her spine. She kept her face imperviously bland.

"You are a very paranoid person, do you know that?" Ahsoka asked, trying to keep her voice light. "It is what has kept me alive, yes. And by the way, I just noticed those twins in the hangar bay conversing with the slaves. And the good senator is hiding behind a pile of rocks currently," Ahsoka opened her mouth to demand how he knew all this, and _why_ he had been spying on their new saviors, but Yavin went on before she could.

"I'm sorry, but most men who worry about the safety of their families don't let them take such risks with their lives unless there's something very big to gain. He seems on pretty good terms with Sidious," he observed distastefully. At Sidious's name, he bared his teeth in a snarl.

His hatred of the Sith went deep. "He's _spying_, didn't you catch any of the conversation we had a few days ago?" Ahsoka retorted, becoming more confused by the moment.

"Yeah, that's the plan. but I don't think he needs his wife and kids to spy too. And they weren't watching Sith but the slaves, talking, getting into people's trust. And what is up with them making buddies with _Stormtroopers_? Doesn't any of this seem_ weird_ to you?" Ahsoka shook her head, sincerely. At Yavin was honest, if not insanely paranoid.

She couldn't blame him, the Sith had everyone strung up, for the past seven years she was not sure she had taken a deep breath of relief or relaxed the hard muscles in her shoulders. It just wasn't possible anymore.

"Yavin, listen, I know you're only looking out for the welfare of us all, but I know these people. Anakin raised me. I helped _deliver_ the twins from the womb, and stars, I won't even start on the sort of trouble me and Padme have gotten ourselves into," she smiled wolfishly at the thought. Some of that trouble she was sure Anakin himself had no clue about.

"They are strangers to you, but for most of us, they're family," she explained. Yavin snorted. "Yeah, they _were_ family. Seven years ago. Who knows who they have become in that time?" he demanded.

"Me," Ahsoka replied firmly. "And I can tell you that they've changed, but they haven't changed into traitors. What are you suggesting anyway?" she asked, realizing that they never got to the crux of the matter.

"That they aren't all that they seem. Maybe there's another reason behind why they are so eager to stay here and help us rather than just let the Rebellion come and save them-or us-all," he said.

"Oh, and you think Sidious isn't going to know if fifty or so Rebel cruisers just suddenly pop into atmosphere? We'll all be dead before they can get here," she snorted, well aware of war tactics.

"We can still try."

"If we want to die, maybe."

Yavin sighed. "Fine. Whatever. I still don't trust any of them. Skywalker seems just a bit too…Unpredictable for a Jedi, much less someone who will put the majority before himself," he snorted. Ahsoka had to admit, once again Yavin's superior people reading skills had hit right on target.

"He is unpredictable," she confessed. "And selfish, at times. But Yavin, he's also courageous, compassionate and loving. We went to war together. I trust him with my life. He hasn't let me down yet," she told him firmly.

"_Yet _being the main word in that sentence," Yavin also pointed out, dryly. "Paranoia," Ahsoka once again reminded him in a singsong voice. "If you want to keep an eye on them, then that is your call. You might find something they haven't anyway, but_ we_ trust them," she informed him as she started to walk past.

"Now, I have to take this chain to Starkiller," she told him, headed already to the door. She heard Yavin sigh behind her. "I really hope you're right about them, Soka. For the sake of all of us." Ahsoka hoped so too.

* * *

~Intrepid's POV~

"Intrepid," she looked up.

Starkiller was in the doorway, a chain thrown around his shoulders. To say that Starkiller looked happy would be a grand lie. True, he didn't look angry, demented or twisted like the other Sith did, nor did he cart around the expressionless face that Count Dooku did the few times he came out of his hole, but the Sith was anything but cheerful looking.

All in all, the only word for his expressions would be bored. Though he was not ever actually bored, it was a bit hard to be bored when one was constantly harassed by his fellow Sith, he managed somehow to pull of the constant look of it.

Intrepid, who had been scrubbing the last vestiges of blood left from a fight between two Sith on the tiled floor looked up, wondering what he wanted. True, she and Ahsoka were the main ones who catered to Starkiller, part of their protection from any advances by the other Sith but all the same he usually just gave her one task and then left it at that.

She cocked a brow questioningly, since they were alone. "One of the younglings is hurt," Intrepid perked up, wondering if he was talking about what she thought he was talking about. He must have seen the question in her eyes for he nodded.

"One of ours, yes. I need you to come help him," his eyes strayed to the blood stain she was scrubbing and his eyes asked the question his mouth was too proud to utter.

"I'm nearly done. What's his injury?" she asked. Starkiller snorted and crossed his arms. "Impudence," he replied bitterly. Intrepid took that to mean he had been beaten near to death from the wagging of his tongue. She shook her head and stood. She would get the blood stains down later, and to the hells with what any of the other Sith had to say about it.

The adrenaline of being needed, of being able to help and having a say in what she did pumped through her veins, giving her strength. "I'm coming. Do you have any medical supplies with you?" She asked.

"Only the bare basics," that was all any of them had. The Sith believed in enduring pain, not solving or helping it. "It'll have to do," she swept up to him with a determined stride. "Lead the way," he nodded and motioned for her to follow.

Intrepid kept her head down as she did, taking care to seem docile. Her head raced. How badly was the person hurt? Would she get too see more than one patient? Would she be able to do anything?

Her heart raced and ached with the indecision of it. She was a Jedi, born and bred to help people. The fact that she had been almost fully deprived of the right to do such a thing was tearing her heart apart inch by kriffing inch. She hated it. She also hated the fact that there were younglings at all under the charge of the Sith.

Children who had been kidnapped from the secret locations that had hidden them as they were trained, and thrust into a world without light. The Jedi did all that they could to keep the hope alive in those children that had been captured but hope was hard to attain and more easily lost than any of the other emotions in the world.

Intrepid remembered her own apprenticeship, remembered how full of fear she had been at such an age, the same age these children were, being encouraged to express their fears and anger to win.

Or die trying.

Finally, following Starkiller into the deep recesses of what once was the Jedi Temple; they came across the training rooms. Once called the younglings wing, the training rooms were a deep maze of separate rooms of separate functions. All that was needed to train force user in the ways of the force was kept here, and the Sith had used that to their advantage.

Intrepid looked up as Starkiller led the way past rooms where she could hear children crying out, younglings whimpering in pain, hear the sizzle of whips as they cracked against bare and innocent backs…

She inhaled sharply, remembering Qe-Azen, and his own bravery in the face of such cruelty. She wished he were here now, to show her his own courageous face. Keeping her eyes down, unable to look up for fear that the fury and disgust would show on her face, she only allowed her eyes to track the progress of Starkiller's feet.

After what seemed like a century to Intrepid, Starkiller led her farther into the younglings wing, down steps and to the right where a singular room sat, it used to be storage room, Intrepid knew.

She had spent much of her time in the youngling's wing when she was a Padawan, cleaning messes and visiting the children. She had known many of them. She wondered if she would know this one now. "He's in here?" she demanded, unable to keep her mouth shut. The storage closet had been barely large enough to hold _Yoda _comfortably.

Starkiller grabbed a small bag sitting by the door and handed it to her. Intrepid took it to mean that this measly place of storage was where the medicines she had were kept.

"For the moment," Starkiller replied as he reached forward and used the force to open the door. Intrepid watched him with envy she missed being able to use the force. She missed it with an ache in her heart that hurt physically.

When the door opened, Intrepid was met with the sight of a young teenager, he was Corellian, the same species that Master Gallia had been. He could have been no older than seventeen years old. He was lying on his side, arms pulled at odd angles and legs curled close to his chest.

Intrepid could see he had been badly beaten, almost to the point of death. Starkiller gestured down to him. "Can you help him?" he asked, and only Intrepid heard the concern behind his voice.

"I think so," she dropped to her knees next to the boy, checking his pulse to see if he was even still alive.

He was. His eyes fluttered open. They were milky gray. At feeling her touch, the young boy scrambled up, and then cried out, clutching his ribs as he skittered away from her to the far corner. "Get away from me!" he hissed. Intrepid gazed at him with sadness; she did remember that face.

"Naomi, relax. It's me, Intrepid," he stared at her with wide, wild eyes in the dim light of the bare light bulb ahead. He was breathing shallowly. Blood bubbled at his lips. The young man was weaponless, though Intrepid had the feeling that he was anything but defenseless.

Seeing him staring at Starkiller with a mix of fear and apprehension, she turned on her knees. "I'll need warm water," she said with a pointed jerk of her head to indicate that he should leave.

Starkiller gave a mere nod of understanding and with a single look, of almost compassion down at the boy; he exited, leaving them alone. The door slid shut behind him. Intrepid turned back to the youngling she had once known. He had been smiling the last time she had seen him, an undeniably cheerful child who had loved to take quick drawings on his paper and the run over to show her happily, proud of his creations. Intrepid had liked him.

"Oh, Naomi," she sighed now, looking at him with a mixture of worry and wariness. She could not guarantee that he was the same boy she had known. He had been trained in the Sith arts for years now. He had the force currently, and she did not.

He studied her in the dim light, warily, his knees pulled up to his chest protectively. "You have to let me help you, Naomi. I won't hurt you," Intrepid said, holding out her hands in a gesture of peace.

Naomi only continued to stare at her with eyes that bordered on dark grey and yellow. At length, though, he relaxed. "It's been some time since I last saw you, Intrepid," he breathed. Intrepid smiled sadly. "Indeed," she agreed. "Does that mean that you'll let me help you?" She asked.

"What for? They're only going to hurt me again as soon as they can," Naomi scoffed. Intrepid nodded, she knew this too. "Yes, but it will make me feel better. Is that a good enough reason?" She asked, watching his eyes carefully.

To her relief, they softened into the old orbs of compassion that she was very familiar with. She grinned. The Jedi had not been beaten out of him yet. "I suppose it is," Naomi breathed, as he unrolled. Intrepid scrambled towards him, tilting his face to see better in the light.

"The brutes," she growled, seeing the bruises. "Yes," Naomi watched her out the corner of his eyes with some suspicious, he cringed when she gently touched his nose, which was broken. Intrepid tsked beneath her breath and pulled the bag over to her. "Other than the brutes that keep you here, you are well?" Intrepid asked softly.

"Who cares?" Naomi snorted, seeming to shrink into himself with bitterness. Intrepid gazed at him with limitless empathy. "Well, I'd say the dozens of Jedi also enslaved care. But that's just my opinion," she put in, gently taking a small disinfectant pad from her bag to touch it to his bruises and cuts.

Naomi spared her a small smile. Intrepid took it as a major victory. "I…I suppose. I still have my drawings that I used to make you," Naomi admitted. His eyes went down. "I know it's a childish thing, stupid, but I just…" he mumbled. Intrepid put a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't think it's stupid at all," she assured him, hoping he could sense her sincerity. "I wish I could see them. Do you have any with you?" she asked. He shook his head, and then cried out when that jarred his ribs and nose. Intrepid held him steady. "Hey, don't move too much. Stay focused on me," she instructed firmly.

"Now, speaking of which, what truth did you tell those scum to bring this about anyway?" She asked. The smile grew, ruefully at her word choice. "Deathdera was making fun of Qe," he muttered. "And well…I didn't know the kid very well. Or at all, really. I think I fought him once. He broke my leg," Naomi cringed, remembering.

"But the night he when I recovering from that broken leg, a piece of chocolate ended up outside my cage. I did not know who it was from then. I know now. I couldn't just sit there and let Deathdera keep talking about him that way," Naomi huffed.

"I just spoke the truth," he growled defensively, with the straight forward pride of a child. Intrepid nodded, tears springing to her eyes. "The Sith despise truth," she mumbled to him. "Thanks," Naomi muttered unhappily. "As if I weren't already aware," he retorted. Intrepid sighed as she gripped the edges of the young man's nose. "This is going to hurt," she warned. Naomi closed his eyes.

"Do it," he muttered tightly, clenching his teeth. Intrepid worked with quick efficiency to crack the bones back into place. Naomi let out an earsplitting scream as he jumped backwards clutching his nose. "Ow! You fool! What would you do that for?" he demanded, suddenly surging to his feet.

Intrepid ducked the hand that swiped across the air where her face had been a moment earlier. Tenseness spiked within the air. "I told you it would hurt," she reminded him calmly. Looking up she found his eyes were now fully yellow, blazing with rage and burning hurt. She looked at him with regret and sadness.  
"What have the Sith done to you?" She mumbled, remembering the bright and cheerful face, how often he had brought her his colorful drawings… Now his eyes blazed with hatred and anger, driven in a world where there was no mercy or kindness, where no one cared for his own well-being.

Intrepid wondered what such a world was like. She was a slave, yes, but she had Ahsoka and the others with her when things got rough. No matter what happened, she knew that she was never alone.

Naomi had no such assurance. It was not fair. He had done nothing wrong other than be found by the Jedi. And that was not a crime or anything to be ashamed of. Fate had merely picked him to be one of its cruel victims.

Intrepid wished that she could switch places with him, if only to see the innocent twinkle that had long died in his gray eyes return. If only to see him smile without bitterness or pain. If only she could set him free. But the force deemed it not to be so. It was at times such as this that one's faith wavered on its thread.

"Naomi," she gestured back to the ground serenely. "Sit down. Your ribs are probably broken. I know it must hurt," she said. "You just _did _hurt me! Why should I trust you?" Naomi demanded heatedly, looking for all the universe as if he wanted to take her neck into his hands and wring it into lifelessness.

She felt no fear of him. After all, she knew him with an intimacy that most others could scarce imagine still existed without the living chords of the force. "We are Jedi," she responded quietly, eyes locked unto his.

Naomi's eyes wavered. He had probably sensed her fearlessness. He was confused by it. "We are one," she reminded him. A flash of gray flashed behind the yellow. "I am no Jedi," he sneered back bitterly.

"We were taken from that life long ago," he growled. Intrepid nodded. She understood the feeling.

"Yes, but was that life taken from _you_? You spoke the truth today, despite the consequences. You kept those drawings. Can you really say that just because you are being taught the ways of the Dark, that means you are not still of the Light?' She asked, surprised by her own wisdom.

The Jedi had kept knowledge about the Sith from themselves for generations. They had shunned the truth and reality. They had believed that even getting near such darkness meant that it would overcome them. They had forgotten that the Force did not give its servants up so easily. They had doubted the power of the Force. Perhaps if they had not, Naomi would not be here, nor would any of them be. Perhaps the story would have worked out differently.

Intrepid found that she doubted many things now.

Naomi did not seem to see the conflict within her eyes. His shoulders slackened as he gazed at her, sudden light brimming into his eyes in the form of helpless, desolate tears.

"I…I'm sorry, Intrepid. S-sometimes I forget who I am. Sometimes I feel so alone," he admitted, with a strangled sob. He sank against the wall, sliding down to collapse into a full heap.

Intrepid moved forward and gently touched a hand to his cheek. She yearned to take him into her arms and hug him like the child she had known. But Intrepid already knew that no such comfort would be permitted nor accepted by the hardened man in front of her. "As do I," she agreed quietly, as she moved to take out a roll of bandages. She took his hands away from his sides.

"And do not feel shame because of it. It's hard. But have hope, and give the others our love," she did not specify who else's love to give. Intrepid did not know who was still a Jedi at heart and who had already surrendered.

She was not fool enough to suppose that some had not fallen. Naomi nodded in understanding, wearily, as Intrepid manipulated his ribs back into place and wrapped the bandage tight around them.

"Is it true?" Naomi asked in a hoarse croak. "Is the Chosen One truly here?" he asked. Intrepid smiled dully and nodded, checking the bag for any more supplies. _Of all the times, I wish I had the force now,_ she thought begrudgingly.

Much of healing had nothing to do with power and more with knowledge and skill, but the force was an invaluable ally in fighting pain and infection, something ordinary medicines could not do.

Intrepid now understood the frustrations of a normal healer. She wished the lesson had not been so harsh. "Yes. He is back, he's alive. The Council has a plan….Here, drink this, it should help with the pain," she said. Naomi obeyed, drinking from the tiny bottle.

That tiny act of faith and trust made Intrepid's bottom lip quiver. Naomi as the miniscule moment, even as he drifted into a deep sleep. Intrepid gently laid a hand against his cheek. He craved the touch. "We were taught not to cry," he murmured against her hand. "It's….Good to see tears again. I can no longer shed them," he mumbled.

"Well, I have plenty enough for both of us," Intrepid gave him a wavering smile. Then her smile faded. "Will you be alright?" She asked, not knowing what she could do if he would not be but knowing that she needed to ask.

Someone should ask about them for a change. Naomi gave a small half shrug, starting to go limp beneath her.

"Now that there is a reason to hope. Now that the Chosen One has returned. I will pass on the word. We'll wait for you," he promised. Intrepid wondered if she should tell Anakin that or if knowing would only make it worse for the Knight. _They need us,_ Intrepid sighed within the confines of her mind. _We have needed you, for so long Anakin. I'm glad you're here,"_ she thought, hoping he could hear it wherever he was.

"The Council has a plan?" Naomi mumbled against her palm as his head dropped against his shoulder. Gently, Intrepid put her hand behind his head and gently lowered him to the ground. On his back so as not to jostle the ribs. "Yes, they do. You should rest now," she replied softly.

Naomi ignored her. "It's has been a long time since I heard something like that. The council has _a plan_," Naomi let out a weak chuckle. "I bet they're ecstatic about it. It used to be common, but now…" he exhaled slowly. "Now I'm just grateful. You take care, Intrepid," then he was asleep, peacefully. Intrepid leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"You take care, Naomi. And Remember the Light. Remember, my brother."


	28. 501st

_**Two weeks later:**_

~Rex's POV~

Rex had shot five people the day that Anakin arrived at their small housing unit. Five people, dead. He had shot three through the head, others through the heart, all in the name of the Galactic Empire. They had not even been bad people. Just plain people, trying to make a difference, protesting against what they believed wasn't right, doing what any hard-working decent folk would do.

And Rex had shot them for it.

Sighing, the clone unhurriedly placed his blaster back in the long holsters that uncurled from the walls, awaiting the return of every single weapon before it was closed for the night.

The Clones were not permitted to have their weapons at night. It did not matter if the families of the people Rex had killed that day bombed the compound, the clones could not be allowed to defend themselves. The leader was no longer sure if the clones deserved such a reprieve.

He may have been forgiven by the Jedi for Order 66, but he knew just as the others did, that he would never forgive himself for the other crimes he had committed, and those of his own free will.

_If your only choice is to do or die, then is it really free-will?_ He wondered, ignoring the sympathetic glances thrown his way by his brothers. They could sense that something was not right with him, and but did not take much wondering to figure out what it was.

Quieting riots was something that happened often, and did not have different scenarios for what occurred during them. It was kill or be killed. The simple aphorism, and yet it caused so much pain. Rex knew that Cody had already made up his mind whether they fought of free-will or not.

_ "__We do have a choice. Just because it's a choice we would not have wanted means nothing. It's our own free-will that compels us to use self-defense. We're still choosing to kill or being killed, Rex," _he had rationalized, sounding as wise and philosophical as any sage. But Rex could not agree with his best friend. Not this time.

They did have a choice, but they did_ not_ have free will.

Heart aching, he started to make his way to the showers with the others. It seemed the promise of cool water on their backs had always gave them hope that they could wash away the blood on their hands.

It never did. They did little talking, and what communication did go on was spoken in small, dull tones.

After so much carnage that day, the clones were too exhausted to say a word to one another. Each day began at dawn and ended much later than dusk. A few snipers were probably still prowling the abandoned streets, cleaning up the bodies. Rex wondered if those five people were still there on the streets…

_I've really got to stop thinking about this sort of stuff,_ Rex thought, swiping hand across his face to clear the wrinkles of stress he knew were coming on. A migraine had begun to throb against his brain. Guilt was ineffectual, as was this _brooding_. He was turning into Cody. Tomorrow, Rex would probably have to kill another five people, and if he didn't the scars on his back from whips would grow. He had tried to save some of the rioters before, from Sith who came to the streets to cut through bodies and tissue with their sabers..

He still had nightmares about it.

Tiredly, he turned his thoughts towards happier times. Luke and Leia's baby faces grinning up at him with toothless gums. The twinkle of gleeful focus in Anakin's eyes when he fought a good adversary.

The sound of his brothers combined laughter in the face of one of the few joys war granted: victory. The tenderness in Cody's eyes when he gazed upon Intrepid secretly….

Rex was broken out of his reverie when they heard a small grunt from somewhere in the compound. A grunt that was not clone. The sounds of a clone were unique, and they all knew their own voices and laughs intimately. After all, it was easy enough to get to know yourself when there were over a million copies of you wherever one went.

Rex snapped to battle readiness in a second, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he froze. His earlier thought that the family of those he had killed might bomb them flashed to mind. _I hate it when I'm right._

Fives appeared at his elbow, keen eyes searching the now silent compound. All ears strained to hear any whisper of noise again. "Could it have been the wind?" BroadEye asked softly. "We're on Courascant. There _is _no wind here," Rex pointed out from between clenched teeth.

"Technically, there _has _to be wind to keep the air currents moving so that we wouldn't all suffocate. But as for fresh summer breezes, well, you're out of luck there, boys," a new voice piped up from nearby.

With a startled exclamation, Rex whizzed around, but saw nothing. He knew that voice. _He_ _knew it_. "Have I gone crazy?" Fives demanded when they could not see the owner of the voice anywhere. "I could have sworn I just heard…."

"Looking for me?" Rex turned around to see Anakin Skywalker walking towards the group of them, swiping his sleeves of dust busily. Behind him jogged a very happy faced Commander Cody.

Rex figured that he had either come from the air ducts (the apple never fell far from the tree) or from secret ground assault tunnel that none of them knew about. Rex wouldn't put it past him. "General!" The air fairly spiked with the delighted shout from all present.

Anakin looked up, smiling broadly, blue eyes twinkling and waved a hand to ward off the introductions. "At ease, men…I haven't been called General in seven years," he told them lightly.

Then he was surrounded by his excitement maddened troops. Rex pushed himself to the front of the men, some of whom were nearly weeping with joy to see Anakin again. Anakin was in the midst of their excited chattering, the nucleus of the raging storm, squeezing shoulders, smiling gladly and eyes sweeping over them to see who was missing.

When he caught sight of Rex, he smiled playfully. In his eyes was a sincere gladness to see them all again. There were so many nights that Rex had lain awake wishing he could say something Anakin, when he got the chance, and yet the lump in his throat barred him from doing so.

Rex stopped in front of Anakin, eyes flicking to Cody for help, but his brother gave a measly shrug. Rex glared at him. _Thanks for the help, Cody. _Anakin noticed him there and broke off from his handshake with Sightseer to flash that old, famous Skywalker grin.

Rex had to smile back as he awkwardly stood there. A hush fell over the other clones as they watched him. Rex glanced around to see his brothers jerk their heads at Anakin, their message to him clear.

_You say it for us all. _

Rex did not remember there being a kriffing vote that placed_ him_ as representative for apologizing for seven years worth of evils and order 66. Anakin noticed the quiet suddenly surrounding him and crossed his arms, gazing at Rex curiously.

He cleared his throat. There may not have been a vote, but he was leader, he would step up to the job of it. "Sir," for the first time in seven years, he didn't want to gag on the title. "About Order 66…" he trailed off when Anakin snapped his fingers, face brightening. "That's what I came here to do!" he exclaimed, interrupting.

He stepped forward and put his hands on either side of Rex's temple without ever breaking eye contact. Rex didn't pull away, though he did stare at Anakin as if he had gone mad. _Then again_, he rationalized. _Anakin never has been the most sane man in the galaxy. _

"I'm making sure the chip is turned off," Anakin explained, seeing his look. "You believe it?" Rex asked, surprised. He had been shocked enough when Padme, Luke and Leia had believed it, and even then he had seen skepticism in their eyes. "You can do that?" Cody gawked from behind.

"I hope so. Relax, Captain," Anakin instructed. Rex noted how he still sounded the same when giving an order. That had not changed. Nodding, he closed his eyes and allowed Anakin to do whatever it was he was planning on doing. The second he had relaxed, he felt a slight numbing in his head, clearing it of migraine and infusing him with a burst of energy.

He opened his eyes, feeling as if five minutes had passed when in all actuality it had only been a few seconds. Anakin had taken his hands away and scowled at them contemplatively. "I can't _believe _I never noticed that," he growled. "Join the club," Cody muttered.

"Is it deactivated?" Rex asked. Anakin nodded, gazing at him with…Sympathy? Thoughtfulness? Remorse? "Yep. It's there, and it's also in pieces. It must have self destructed when its objective was done, so that it could never be reprogrammed. I assume you all get horrible migraines?"

Those around nodded, staring at Anakin as if he were a spirit from the past come back to tell them of their own heroic deeds. "Well, that's from the chip's broken, microscopic pieces. I don't think its very dangerous, just aggravating," he reported matter of factly.

Rex let out a sigh of relief. The brothers around him broke into a small cheer. He had never wanted to feel the mind-aching panic of having no control over his mind and body whatsoever again.

Then he sobered. He had waited seven years to see Anakin. He was not going to let any such thing distract him from what he had to say. "General, about Order 66," he began, quieting the others with the single words that ruined their lives. "What about it?" Anakin asked in surprise.

Rex licked his lips, wondering what else there was to say. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, flabbergasted. Seven tears worth of nights and he was tongue tied now when he was finally given a chance to say it?

"How can you forgive us?" It had not been the question he had been aiming for originally, but it worked. After all, they were all wondering. Anakin's brows crinkled for a moment in consternation, but when he glanced around to the sincere faces staring back at him, his eyes softened.

"I never blamed you," he answered softly, returning his warm gaze to Rex. Though he was looking at him. Rex knew that he was speaking to them all. "I was angry-_furious _with you. I was hurt, and betrayed and indignant. But I never blamed any of you. I blamed myself," When he saw Rex's palpable reaction of astonishment, Anakin gave a sad smile.

"Yes," he folded his hands behind his back and let his eyes wander over them. There was something in his demeanor that was different. A new glint to his gaze that was more settled and harmonic than the wild craze of energy that had once inhabited him on the battlefield.

The Anakin Rex had known had been bold, determined, unpredictable, fiery, compassionate, reckless and impatient. This Anakin that stood before them had the same attributes, only…More _stylized_, it was no longer an uncontrolled fire within him that was burning its way out of its restraints. This fire was controlled, and willing, but not always ready.

Rex felt as if he was staring at Anakin Skywalker all grown up, and squirmed in place, knowing that he could never feel the same abstract maturity as his hero. _Perhaps that's why he's my hero,_ Rex thought.

"I blamed myself. Me, who knows exactly what it's like to be a slave," Anakin sighed. "I know you were bred to be soldiers. There's never been any other life for you…And that's slavery. Depriving someone of their own free-will," he met each eye, head on.

"Is to put chains on them. Whether they are tangible chains or genetically engineered chains, it makes no difference. I did not agree with breeding clones, but neither did I do anything to stop it. In fact I encouraged it, by agreeing to lead in the first place," he smiled bitterly.

"So when Order 66 came past... I was angry, but I couldn't blame you for it. After all, killing a person is different than killing your master. I should have known better, but I didn't allow myself to face the truth. I enslaved you," he inhaled a deep breath. "And for that, I am deeply sorry," Rex was so astonished by this patent declaration he forgot to breathe.

Helplessly, he looked around, but the others, too, were frozen. Anakin waited patiently, clearly expecting an answer. They had not a rationally spoken one to give him. Rex was still trying to figure out why Anakin was apologizing to_ them. _

At length, Fives was the one to break the silence. "I think the general has got it wrong, Rex," he announced, so that his voice carried throughout the room in a grand echo.

"Because as I recall, I _chose_ to fight with him. I chose to be a soldier. I could have deserted, like a lot of the others did. I didn't. And not because of any genetics, but because it was _my _choice," he recalled. Rex stared at him fuzzily, but at length caught onto the ploy.

"I remember that too," he agreed, with a definite nod. "I remember thinking of him as a leader, a friend, not a master. _I_ remember him doing everything he could to save us, not enslave us. We didn't fight for the Republic, or because it was the only thing we could do, but because _he_ was fighting," he pointed out casually.

"I think what they're_ trying_ to say," Cody broke into their dramatics, rolling his eyes at them. Anakin was staring at them with wide, solemn eyes that reflected pure gratitude.

"Is that had you suddenly piped up one day and told us that we were charging into the Hells, general, we would have gone. And if we would have had to fight there, we would have fought for centuries. And if we lost and couldn't get out, we still would have counted ourselves blessed because we had had such a leader," Cody finished.

Anakin looked down for a moment, obviously fighting to keep control. After a few moments, he looked up, swiping away a tear. "Wow," he murmured. "And here I thought _Padm_e gave long orations. You boys could get some money off doing stuff like that," he managed with a shaky grin.

This made the assembled crowd burst into unrestrained laughter. Rex moved forward to clap Anakin on the shoulder. "We learned from the best," he said softly, touched himself by Anakin's evident emotion.

"Who, Obi-wan? He does give long lectures. Speaking of which, Rex, the _original _reason for me coming here was to break you out so that you could face the wrath of The Council," he confessed.

"The Jedi Council is still alive?" Rex asked. "They weren't _that _old, Rex…."

"No, no," he hastened to explain, laughing a little at Anakin's assumption. "It's just that…We all thought that the Sith would have killed the Jedi Council. Eliminate the leaders of the enemy, you know?" he said. Anakin nodded in understanding. "Like in war," he added.

"So… General Kenobi is still living?" Cody asked hesitantly. Rex knew that the question had always niggled at him. Anakin snorted. "If Sidious had killed Obi-wan, do you think this place would still be in one piece?" he wondered, with a cocked eyebrow.

Rex chuckled. It felt good to hear Anakin's wry humor again.

"Good point," he conceded. "How are we going to get there?" Cody asked. "And why _tonight_?" Rex asked, giving into his exhaustion, which had not abated with the migraine. Anakin's face suddenly fell. "Well," he said, sounding undeniably tired himself.

"We are going to go through a secret tunnel I found underneath the compound. I don't know what it's for, but I'm guessing you guys had no clue it was there?" They shook their heads in unison. "Do you need any of the rest of us to do anything for you, general?" Gripes piped in wonderingly. Anakin looked at him as if he had never seen him before, assessing, before he nodded.

"Yes…from all of you. I ask that you have hope. Help the other slaves every safe chance you get, and take care of each other. The reason I'm coming for you tonight, is well," Anakin turned to Rex, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sidious is taking me away tomorrow," Rex's blood ran cold.

The others gasped. "Where?" Rex demanded, sharper than he had intended. Anakin shook his head mournfully. "I wish I knew. I just know we are leaving planet at dawn. I do not know when I will be returning, or what he has in store for me," Anakin's eyes took on a faraway cloudiness as he gazed at Rex as if he were looking through him.

Rex gulped, sudden protective fury raging through him. "Bring that Sith scum down here, general!" A voice suddenly called out, enraged. "Yeah, we'll end this war right here and now!" Another called. "We'll teach him a thing or two or die trying! " The shouts grew in aggressiveness and passion. Rex felt the need to yell himself build within him. He exchanged a look with Cody. Their brothers spoke brave words, loyal words, but they both knew that they were also futile. Nothing any of them measly clones had to say or do would affect Anakin's future.

Smiling, Anakin raised a hand to quell the rising tide of anger. Almost immediately, snapping into the custom of long habit, the clones fell abruptly silent. They stared at Anakin as if his words were divine

"I appreciate your fidelity men, more than you'll ever know. But right now, the best thing you can do for me is look out for Padme, and the twins. And yourselves. I don't know when, but I_ will_ be back, and when I return, we'll start planning our…" a slow, mischievous grin crossed his features.

"_Early retirement_ from Imperial service," he told them secretively. Rex had to smile at Anakin's unerring optimism. The others laughed exuberantly and clapped each other on the back, filled with new hope for the future. The first glimpse of hope that they had had for a very long time.

Still…

Rex looked up at Anakin and noticed the shadows behind his eyes. He was worried; and probably scared out of his right mind. If Rex had found anything out from Anakin Skywalker while serving under him, it was that Jedi had emotions too. They hid them well enough for the rest of the universe not to know it; but they _did_ have them.

"Don't worry, sir," he promised sincerely. "We'll keep our eyes on the others. None of them will get hurt if we have a say in it," he swore. Anakin turned to him and gently squeezed his shoulder, eyes limpid with gratitude. "Thank you, Rex, that means much to me," he whispered. But Rex wasn't done yet.

"If you promise me something in return," he continued. Anakin cocked a curious brow. "You've become a _business_ man now, Captain?" He inquired teasingly. Rex ignored the jibe."When that Sith starts spouting off his lies…Promise me you'll remember what_ we've_ said," he said seriously, meeting Anakin's eyes head on. Anakin gazed back at him for along moment.

At last, he nodded. "You haven't changed at all, Rex. I promise," he said, and so was forged another strand of fabric in the brotherhood between them.


	29. Morning goodbyes

_**The Next morning:**_

~Anakin's POV~

The break of day was an eerily silent event, plethora's of unspoken words hanging in the air like the drifting smoke of wood fires in a deserted camp. Outside, speeders raced past, creating softly illuminated outlines between the blinds, shadows arcing in different zig-zags across the floor.

Anakin stopped and stared at the shadows for a moment. He had never realized that those were there when he had lived here. Then again, he had often noticed that not many people knew what they had until it was gone.

Sighing, he returned his gaze to the innate lump on the couch in the main room. Her dark brown locks were strewn about her face as if snake-like coils. He wished he could feel sleepy, bleary, or even a tad bit exhausted, but he could not. He was wide-awake, and he knew why. The goodbyes still swirled in his head like the eddying tornadoes of the Rodian plains.

The night before had been the start of much more tense night's Anakin was sure to come in the future. Carefully, he laid his hand on his dismantled, corrupt saber and inhaled a deep breath. He was going to engage in another set of goodbyes this morning; only it would be single sided.

Thanks to a bit of tweaking with the Force, Padme had not awoken when he had slipped from her side in bed twenty minutes before. Leaving the security of her warm body next to his had been one of the hardest things Anakin had ever been forced to do in his life.

Standing fully dressed and boots strapped, he found that the second hardest thing he had ever done in his life was to walk inside of the room that used to be his and see the twins asleep in bed. Standing in the doorway, his eyes suddenly stung with wetness. His eyes scanned the room, trying to ingrain every detail of the tableau into his mind.

It seemed as if the twins had not dared to touch even a single modicum of what was inside. There were still old candy wrappers and droid parts scattered everywhere, barely out of place.

Luke and Leia had attempted to keep some sort of orderliness about, more from Padme's persuasion he was guessing than their own ambition; otherwise his children had yet to change a single thing. A small part of him was glad, even though he himself had not spent much time in the room. He had used it more of a storage closet, really.

On the bed in the corner, Luke and Leia did not sleep side by side as they used too when they were little. The differences in gender were becoming quite clear to both of them, and awkwardness was not an unusual symptom of growing up. They were back to back, though, as equals and partners. Luke's right arm hung over the side of the bed.

A dribbling of drool rolled down his cheek. Anakin, thinking back to the confident, matured air his twelve year old had given off the night before in front of the council, chuckled softly.

He remembered those days. Leia had a section of the blanket balled into one fist, like she had done as a baby in her cradle, while the other supported her head.

Her face was set into such a peaceful look of relaxation that Anakin felt his heart melt. The night before had not been filled with anything other than support. The food had been just as horrible as it always was and their predicament had gotten no closer to being fixed, but they had been together.

He supposed that was maybe a reason why Leia would sleep so soundly. Anakin half wished he could curl up next to his children and join them in slumber. He more wished that he had thought to have done it before. _Odd, _he thought tiredly. _How one comes to regret those things that were never done when is impossible to do them. _

Quietly, careful not to make any noise whatsoever that could alert them to his presence, Anakin crept over to stand above the beings who were made from his flesh and Padme's, confirmation of their love and respect for each other, proof that to serve the Light was to also serve love.

He reached out with a trembling hand. He would miss them so much. He never wanted to say goodbye, yet he knew that he must.

He was the Chosen one.

Sometimes Anakin wondered why the Force had selected _him_ to be the one to bring Balance. Many times, he had compared himself to others. Anyone-_all _of the other Jedi would have been better choices, but no. The Force had picked him, and by extension, his entire family. _Why?_

Gently, Anakin swiped a piece of Leia's silky hair away from her face. His Leia. His little girl. His second angel. How he would think of her and miss her every single day he was gone.

_If not for that stupid prophecy, I wonder if she would be here, _he thought. After all, if Qui-gon hadn't believed him to be the Chosen one, he would never have met Padme or been brought to the Temple. Would Luke and Leia ever have been born?

_Would the Jedi be enslaved?_ The Dark Side added. Anakin bristled, guilt and shame flaring within him again. He pushed it away. He would focus on his mistakes later. For now, he had to say goodbye to his family. "I love you," he whispered, no louder than the barest shrill of wind.

He could not risk any of them waking up. He had put a very strong mind influence over them the night before, but Luke and Leia might have been able to break through even subconsciously.

They were strong in the force. They would be grater Jedi than he could ever imagine. Which was why he had to do this. He _had _too. "I love you _so_ much, my little one. Be strong, be brave, keep your focus," he silently instructed, barely moving his lips.

Leia shifted underneath his touch. Anakin quickly recoiled, watching her face for any signs of wakefulness, but the maximum Leia did was flutter her eyelids and mumble something incomprehensible.

Anakin let out a breath of relief as he moved on to Luke on the other side of the large bed. _"I wish I could go with you,"_ that was what his son had told him the night before, eyes downcast with shame, shoulders slumping with burden. Anakin remembered the feel of his quivering chin as he had taken it between his fingers.

_ "__I need you here, to look after your mother and sister. Will you do that for me, son?"_ he had asked, and tearfully Luke had promised him that he would. Not that Anakin had ever held any doubt that Luke would say no, he was just as over protective of those he loved as Anakin was.

It would get him into trouble in the future, as it had gotten Anakin into trouble, but that lesson was not for him to give. Life taught its own lessons, and in time it would teach him those that he needed to learn as well. Perhaps some that would help Anakin balance the Force once and for all. _Then, maybe, my family can find peace at last, in the end. _

He gently caressed Luke's soft cheek, remembering the look of worried anxiety in the eyes of Lux and Ahsoka when they had stared at him the previous night. How strained Padme and Nava's laughter sounded.

The solemnity of Intrepid's unwavering gaze, akin to her trying to commit his face to memory. How Obi-wan had not left his side or made any attempt to hide his terror.

None of them had expressed any doubt that could suggest they thought that Anakin could not handle it. They had merely feared for his well-being. He understood the feeling; and felt endless appreciation knowing that they shared it. He still hated to worry them.

Luke's cheek beneath his hand was warm and smooth. _Do I feel a bit of stubble coming in there? _Anakin wondered in mingled shock, amusement and pride, pulling his hand back to stare at it as if looking for any stubble on his own fingers to explain the uncertain likelihood of a beard growing on his son. He almost did not want to contemplate it.

_If I'm going to have to protect Leia from the boys, Force, what in the galaxy am I going to do with Luke to protect him from the __**girls**__?_ Anakin wondered helplessly, running a hand through his hair.

He gazed down at Luke with limitless love. He was afraid of what Sidious might do to him on this trip, his stomach twisted with the possibilities of the temptation, yet his voice did not waver a she whispered to Luke another goodbye and earnest 'I love you' before departing the room. The door slid closed behind him, smoothly. Neither twin woke.

Anakin could sense Sidious coming, along with Vader. Those two always seemed to travel together as far as Anakin had been able to tell. From what Anakin could deduce, this was because Vader was genuinely devoted to Sidious. He thought of him as a father.

Anakin wondered what sort of son would want a father like that, and came up with the answer of one who had been cloned for one reason; to destroy Anakin with his own power.

The day on Mustafar had changed all that, but the question once again raised _why_ in Anakin's mind. Why was Vader, innocent of any wrongdoing except for being born to the wrong people, deserve a life of the dark? Why hadn't he been born the Chosen One?

_Why did you pick me? _

He shook his head. These were blasphemous thoughts. He should not question the will of the Force. _If you do not question it, then isn't it the enslaver, instead of a tool for you to __**use**__?_ The Dark Side coiled around him, squeezing the breath from his lungs.

Anakin ignored it, instead digging deeper into the thin undercurrent of Light that accompanied all living things. He inhaled deeply as if it were a glorious scent and bade himself to move further. Cautiously, he leaned over Padme. She was in a deep sleep, curled in the exact same position Leia had been in. Anakin's eyes glinted.

He had a sudden urge to run his hands through her long, silky hair. He reached down as he had for Leia to grab a strand when suddenly Padme's hand shot out from beneath the covers and grabbed his wrist in a firmly painful clench. Anakin was so astonished that he could do nothing but gawk as the other hand snapped out with a small blaster pointed towards his face.

And Padme hadn't even seemed to have woken up. In fact, her eyes were fluttering open blearily. After a few blinks, she opened them fully and seemed to notice something. She glanced up at him, then at his hand in her grip, then at the blaster she had pointed at his face.

She gave him an illuminated smile, eyes twinkling. All Anakin could think was that she was gorgeous when she smiled…And that his wrist was starting to grow numb.

Padme continued smiling impishly at him for a moment, before she remembered just why he was up so early. She released his wrist and stowed the blaster back beneath the covers.

"Good morning, Anakin," she said softly, not meeting his eyes. The use of his full name told him that she was unhappy with this new arrangement. Anakin sighed. He had not wanted to do this to her, but it seemed that he had no choice about it now.

Anakin plopped down next to her in bed, and stretched out his mechanical hand. Moving across the bed, Padme came to sit next to him on the edge, gripping his hand tightly in her fingers. For a moment, they sat in silence, thoughts elsewhere.

At length, Padme spoke softly. "I love you," it was a choked and simple statement. He nodded, not looking up. "I know," he agreed, also softly. "I love you too," there was little else to say. They had said enough to each other the night before by way of physical means.

"Rex and the 501st have all promised me to help you three in any way they can. They'll look over you, Padme," he told her, trying to sound assuring. He could feel more than hear Padme's soft snort of amusement.

"Being taken to some mysterious wasteland by a Sith, and you think of us," she observed. Anakin could feel the somberness within her, the fear that he might not come back, the anguish that she couldn't do anything.

He squeezed her hand. "Is there something else you believe I should be worrying about?" He asked. "How about _yourself_?" Padme suggested, slyly. Anakin chuckled deep in his throat, turning to her. Her shoulders were slumped, eyes downcast. Anakin put a finger beneath her chin and directed her gaze towards him.

His face fell when he saw the tears streaking down her cheeks. Solemnly, he swiped them away with his thumb, eyes scanning her face, from her elegant neck to the smooth roundness of her forehead. The face of an angel. His angel.

"I'm coming back, Padme," he reminded her, desperate to make the flow of sadness stop. It killed him to see her so forlorn. He would do anything-had already given everything-to make her happy.

"I know," Padme choked, chin trembling as she stared at him as if the sight of him was hurting her. She abruptly closed her eyes. A few more water droplets leaked from her eyes. Anakin quickly swiped them away.

"But the thought of that sleemo hurting you, Anakin…Of you being all alone…Without anyone there to help you…_I hate_ it," she growled. Anakin nodded. He could only imagine how hard it was for her to watch him go. Anakin knew that if it had been him, he probably would have had to have been tied down. She was the stronger of the two.

"I know, my soul mate," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her warm body pressed to his, as if his long lived dream of protecting her from every galactic evil could now become true.

Padme's shoulder shook silently as more tears flooded down her face. Anakin closed his own eyes, unable to bear watching her grief any longer. At that thought, he let out a humorless chuckle.

"I've seen more death, cruelty, torture and pain than I'd care to have seen. I've fought in two wars now, without ever closing my eyes against the ugliness of it or shedding a tear," he whispered against her cheek.

"And yet, when I see your pain I feel as if daggers are slicing through my heart, and I can't bear to watch," he marveled. "Did you say goodbye to the kids?" Padme asked huskily.

"Yes. I didn't want to wake them, though. It will only be harder on all of us. I think Luke is growing a beard," he confided. Padme let out a barking laugh. "Force," she breathed. "What are we gonna do about _that_?" She asked. "Prepare the paddle and get lecture tips from Nava," Anakin guessed.

"I thought corporal punishment was against the Code," Padme admonished. "If Luke is anything like I was as a teenager, then corporal punishment is going to have _to become_ the code. That or we're dropping them off with Obi-wan and running. It's the only way," he told her. Padme giggled.

Then, she sobered. "Once, we could have dropped them off with Beru and Owen," she whispered. Anakin stiffened at the name of his stepfamily. "Thinking about them?" he asked softly.

"I hate to admit it, Ani, but their death has sort of gotten pushed aside. What with all that's been happening lately," Padme lamented for the people who had so generously opened up their home and dealt with having two highly wanted criminals of the Empire living with them.

"Yeah," Anakin muttered. "I still owe Vader for that one. I'll add it to his tab," he promised. Padme shook her head at him. Anakin perked up when he sensed Vader and Sidious getting closer. His grip on Padme tightened. "I have to go," he whispered in her ear. Her own grip on him tightened.

Reluctantly, Anakin gently peeled her from him and stood, his mechanical hand still in her embrace when the door slid open and there stood Sidious and Vader staring expectantly at them.

"Ah, Anakin," came the amiable voice of a traitor. "Ready to go?" His eyes flicked to Padme degradingly. Padme scowled at him, looking for all the universe as if she'd very much like to put a blaster bolt through his head. Anakin gladly would have given her permission had she asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Anakin looked down at his wife a last time, and finally released her hand. Padme cringed when he did, but said nothing. She sat straight with her chin tucked high. Anakin was proud of her. He turned and began ailing towards the door.

"Take care of the others," he tossed over his shoulder, cloak lapping at the ground as if it wanted to remain there. Anakin knew he did. Padme made no reply to that until Anakin was half way out of the door.

"Anakin," he turned, surprised at the serious clap of her voice. He met her fiercely blazing deep brown eyes, sending through an intangible wave link all her love and strength. Anakin felt power course through him along with a burst of energy and confidence.

Padme did not appear to realize the effect her look was having on him. Sidious and Vader noticed. Their faces darkened with displeasure and disgust. They could never understand love.

"May the Force be with you," Padme said. Anakin nodded, bowing his head subtly. Her word carried more authority than the Council and The force combined. Anakin doubted that with_ that_ look in her eye, he had a choice in the matter anymore.

"And with you, Padme," he replied. Then, turning sharply on his heel, Anakin allowed the Sith to escort him out. The door snapped closed behind him, Padme's eyes still on his back.


	30. Sure kid

~Ventress's POV~

Mara was having another nightmare. Asajj could always tell by the way the kid thrashed in bed, mumbling incoherently, and by the slick sheen of sweat that had developed on the girl's forehead as she wriggled in bed, obviously fleeing from something.

Ventress moved over quickly. She stood above her young friend, watching her unsurely for a moment, wondering if she should interfere. Perhaps it was a dream from the Unifying Force.

Then, dispensing of her doubt she knelt at her side. She had been through this procedure so many times that she was now well versed in what to do. "Mara," she hissed, shaking the kid's shoulder-not roughly, it only frightened her.

_ "__Mara,"_ she swiped away a strand of golden/orange hair as the girl continued to thrash in the throes of terror. The force twisted and lacerated with horror so severe it left a pang in Asajj's hardened heart.

She had not yet been able to pry out of Mara what these reoccurring dreams were about. The kid was as stubborn as Ventress had been herself, and that was dangerous. Asajj could not afford for Sidious to sense Mara there with her through an uncontrolled force signature. It had taken Ventress long enough to teach the kid how to control it asleep.

Mara was extremely strong in the Force, yet she barely knew how to use it. It was an unimaginable waste of talent. Persistently, Ventress did not relent on her shaking. "Mara, it's a dream, do you hear me? Snap out of it, Mara!" _stars, what is she dreaming about? An apocalypse? _She wondered.

Suddenly, as if the very thought of such a catastrophic event had revived her, Mara Jade gasped and sat bolt upright, frazzled hair swatting Ventress in the face with springy curls.

"No!" Mara shrieked as she sat up. Asajj was glad she had not been sitting directly above her or else their heads would have collided. "Hush," she put a hand on her young friends trembling shoulder, with the other hand she took the blanket and pulled it tight around Mara to expel the shivers.

"Its alright, Mara, you were dreaming," she informed her, gazing at the young girl keenly in case any sign of the dream was lined into Mara's face. Mara stared at her for a moment with wide eyes filled with tears, obviously flabbergasted, as her chest heaved. Ventress could hear her heart thumping from where she sat next to the newly cleaned cot.

"You're safe now," she repeated soothingly. The look of sadness and complete desolated woefulness sin Mara's eyes worried her. The chill should not know such a deeply intimate pain. She should not have to face it alone. It wasn't right. Yet what could she do about it?

Her voice seemed to snap Mara out of her ghostly reverie. "Saji?" She muttered a she blinked suddenly, coming back into focus. She rubbed her eyes and looked around as if she had never seen the room before…or as if she were looking for something.

"Where….? Oh. I was dreaming. Did I…?" She peeked beneath her covers, embarrassment flooding the Force, but heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that it was dry. It had been awhile since Asajj had nagged her about the burdens of having a child with nighttime terrors, but Mara was proud with or without the teasing anyway.

"You're good, kid," Asajj agreed, standing. She offered Mara a hand up, neglecting to tell her that she had gotten the absorbent type of cot this time and replaced Mara's other cot with it, just in case.

She knew what it was to feel as if you have succeeded one moment and the next you had failed again. She would not be the one to do that to Mara. Not for her own pride, which she probably did not need any more of.

Sometimes ignorance was the best shield, as Kai would have said. Ventress found that she was starting to remember a great many things Kai had said to her back when she had been his apprentice. They seemed to come in handy more often than they had before.

Mara Jade took Asajj's hand and helped herself to her feet. "Thanks, Saji," she mumbled as she turned away to move her pillow and blanket back into place. As much as Mara did not resemble Tarkin in any shape or form whatsoever physically, Asajj had noticed that she had an militaristic way of organization, a clean-cut sort of style.

Quite like the Captain himself. Though the thought should have frightened her, Ventress was becoming accustomed to Mara's habitual cleanliness, being as how she was not the most hygienic person around.

Once again, she wondered who this girl's mother was and _where _she was. "Yeah," she grunted. "Are you going out to work today?" Mara asked, as was customary. In the weeks following her recovery, this had become almost habit. The idea of a routine was new to Asajj.

She had been living her life day in and out, always with a new thrill or surprise, trying to achieve that first blood-pumping, skin heating rush of adrenaline that she had felt during her first real battle as a teenager. What some might have described as fear, she had described as mind-blowing exaltation.

It had been a very long time since she had had something steady or solid to lean back on, and she was coming to find that it was now a necessity for the day to feel right. She had to go through the routine.

When all else in the universe was falling apart, she could depend on Mara to ask her if she were going to work, as if what Asajj did could technically be called work in the first place. Ventress did not even want to try to think of a way to explain to Mara how she blackmailed the owner of this dump into letting her stay rent free.

_Thinking about that, I really should just move out of here. It has all sort of safety hazards,_ Ventress considered thoughtfully. "Use the force," Asajj burst out in a command, when she noticed Mara picking up her pillows and sheets. "Why? I _do _have hands," Mara retorted with her characteristic arrogance.

"Because your force coordination and balance is still shaky at best. Do as I say," Asajj ordered briskly. Mara, when the reason was given, nodded and obeyed. Asajj had found that her curiosity was often mistaken for disrespect, since the girl had not yet learned to speak respectfully towards those older than her, but she really meant no ill will.

"Like this, Saji?" Mara asked. Asajj watched as Mara carefully, biting her lower lip in concentration, picked up the pillow steadily and slowly levitated it towards the cot. "Its shaking," Ventress pointed out without mercy or empathy. "Focus, Mara. And don't just touch the Force,_ grab_ it," she instructed. Mara bit her bottom lip even harder.

Asajj watched passively from the sidelines, arms crossed. Mara was not tentative in most things she did. She was as brazen and bold as one twice her age and with twice the amount of confidence one her age was supposed to have, but with the Force it seemed almost as if she were afraid to really use it. As if she were terrified of touching it more than just the tiniest tap.

For one deprived of any_ real_ knowledge and with such a strong curiosity, this was odd. Ventress credited it to her father and Sidious's malevolent influence. They had probably made the Force out to seem as the means of her imprisonment within the Sith Palace. Nonetheless, Asajj meant to wean her of that ineffectual nervousness.

Mara's object wobbled in mid-air about ten centimeters away from her cot, the tenuous control on it breaking, the fear overcoming all confidence in ability. Force manipulation was just as much about belief as it was about skill. One had to_ believe_ that one could do it before anything could ever get done.

"Come on, kid," Ventress growled, but her voice broke the tenuous influence and the pillow dropped flatly, no longer controlled or hovering. "Ah!" Mara stomped her foot angrily, then gasped as the jolt sent a shockwave of agony through the cut on her still healing ribs.

Asajj's arm snapped out to catch Mara when she doubled over, eyes wide, clutching at her ribs. "Careful, careful!" Ventress breathed, horrified, catching the small girl in her arms and gradually lowering her back down to the ground, where Mara was wheezing for breath, pain etched into her face.

"No-don't clutch at it, you'll rip the stitching. Just relax; I'll ease the pain. There you go. Easy," she soothed, having also grown accustomed to doing this most mornings when Mara tried to over tax herself as well. Sometimes she could swear Mara had no sense at all, then at other times she had too much sense for her own good.

The kid couldn't stay neutral, no, she had to pick a side during the most inconvenient of times. She pushed Mara onto her back to check the wound.

The first time this had happened Asajj remembered she had not been able to bear seeing Mara in so much pain. She had probably needed more comforting than Mara had.

Carefully, her hands skimmed over Mara's skin with the elegant practice of a bird skimming over the waterline looking for fish just beneath the surface. The Force extended, lending healing powers to ease the pain.

Asajj dared not infuse any energy into the effort. Mara had enough as it was. Watching her was making _Ventress _feel like she was from ancient times, and she was barely any older than thirty years old.

"I can take care of myself!" Mara snapped, her hot head flaring into a temper again. Ventress gently lifted the small shift to look at the reddened skin around the thin yet deep cut that she had inflicted on her young friend days before.

"It's looking pretty good. You haven't been putting any soap or anything on it, have you?" She demanded, ignoring Mara's impending tantrum. "No, I've been taking care of it just fine! I'm not a baby anymore, Saji," Mara accentuated this comment with a stubbornly poked out bottom lip.

Asajj resisted the urge to laugh at the demonstration. "I see," she had also learned in the few weeks they had been together that laughing at Mara's displays was a good way to get into an unnecessary fight. The kid was a prideful girl, and did not take kindly to having her jokes laughed at.

She was unreasonable that way.

Ventress considered that perhaps Mara was getting just a bit too old for such dramatics. Perhaps she should discourage it while the girl yet went ignorant of the effect it had on her. While they could still get along okay.

"Anyway, I don't have anything overly important on my agenda today," she continued with the original question mildly. "You mean we _aren't_ going to go beat some people up?" Mara demanded, astonished. "You don't get to beat _anyone _up until you learn how to control the Force correctly," Ventress replied sternly.

"If I have to learn so much about the force, then what is my saber for?" Mara grumbled indignantly, glaring from beneath her lashed with flashing green eyes which could have been emeralds in the pale light of morning.

"Your saber is an extension of yourself. _You_ are an extension of the Force," Asajj explained sagely, channeling Kai wisdom again. _Or, thinking about it, the Sith believe in that too, _Ventress observed quietly.

It had forever confused her how the Jedi and Sith could believe that t hey were so very different when their goals and morals bordered on the same line. The Sith merely did not let any weaknesses such as compassion and forgiveness stop them from doing what needed to be done.

_Whether Dark or Light, the Force is still the Force, apprentice,_ Kai whispered next to her, banishing the momentary distraction of unease the thought inspired within her. Asajj nodded. That was true.

"That's stupid," was Mara's blunt assessment on the information. "Yeah, well, its fact…. You'll get used to it. Here, I have an idea," with a firm pat on the belly, which made Mara giggle shrilly, she stood and began walking towards the kitchen.

"I got these box things at the store yesterday," she began, only to have Mara interrupt her. "With what money?" The youngster growled, trailing Asajj grumpily. Then, after a seconds pause, Mara added: "and at what store?" there wasn't one for miles, but that was why whomever had invented speeders. Walking was so old-fashioned.

"_My_ money. Don't worry about where it came from," Ventress replied patiently. In truth, she had not stolen the credits this time, or in any way that would be considered overly dishonorable, but borrowed some indefinitely from the bank of Yavin and the unwilling participant of Ackbar.

"We can make breakfast with the ingredients," she explained, reaching into the otherwise empty cabinets to grab the small boxes of flour and starch. She had never had a _pancake _before either, or if Kai had ever made her those she had long lost the memory.

"My nanny used to make those," Mara stated with disgust, wrinkling her nose as she peered at the box, her small chin just barely passing the countertop and thus Asajj's waistline. "The second or third nanny?" Asajj inquired with a cocked brow, eyes skimming over the directions. "The fourth," Mara replied matter of factly.

"Oh, yeah. Well, how do you make them then?" Ventress asked inquisitively, hoping that at least Mara would know what they were doing, because she still had no clue. Mara shrugged.

"I don't know. I never watched. She just made them and brought them to me. I never ate them, though," she continued, narrowing her eyes at the box within Asajj's hand as if she suspected it of treason. Asajj snorted with amusement. "Why not?" There was usually a story behind why Mara did not want to do these things.

"That nanny used to threaten to poison me. There was something wrong with her, I think. Maybe father got her from one of Sidious's dungeons, I dunno. I wouldn't eat anything she gave me," Mara replied blatantly.

Ventress was long past the point of being surprised at anything in Mara's past life, though the offhandedness that the girl employed while she told the stories worried Asajj at times.

"This isn't poisoned," she assured the cynical girl. "How can you tell?" Mara asked, still eyeing the box distrustfully. "I would be able to sense it. Trust me. People have tried to poison me too," Asajj mollified her.

Mara's eyes grew wide as saucers. She gazed up at Asajj with a sort of disbelieving protectiveness, as if she weren't sure whether she wanted to avenge her friend's torment or assume she were joking.

"Really? Why?" she blurted. Ventress looked down, giving a half shrug. She could not meet Mara's eyes and lie at the same time, though it was an easy enough skill with any other soul in the galaxy.

She had not yet told Mara about her service under the employ of Count Dooku. She doubted that she ever would.

It was not something she was proud of.

"Because they didn't like me," it was a simple enough answer, and not totally a lie. After all, the people who had tried to kill her probably had not liked her very much; Ventress could not blame them even now.

Mara harrumphed below her, crossing her arms contemplatively as she looked ahead as if deep in thought. "I just don't get it, Saji," she finally came up with after a few minutes of deep contemplation, Ventress was positive. "Why _wouldn't_ anyone like you? You're _awesome,"_ she claimed loyally.

Ventress looked down at the young girl she had injured a mere few days before in astonishment. However, Mara was simply looking up at her with a trusting sort of fidelity. The kid genuinely admired her, she genuinely believed that Asajj could do anything and even if she didn't, she would still be impressive in Mara's sight.

That sort of uncomplicated, undemanding love shocked Ventress. She had never had anyone…._Unconditionally_ love her before; never had anyone so dedicated to her that she could do no wrong in their sight.

After what Mara had seen Ventress do a few days before she was surprised that the kid could remotely feel that way. She still could not believe that Mara was not afraid of her. For a moment, the older woman was struck wordless.

"Um…Okay," she finally managed, knowing the second it came from her mouth that it had not been what Mara had been looking for. The kid showed no signs of disappointment or hurt, though she only pointed to the box. "Are you sure that this thing isn't poisoned, Saji?" She asked, a tad fearfully now.

Ventress looked back at the box, feeling as if she were seeing it in a new light what with Mara's fear of it becoming bit more blatant. Mara had made Ventress see everything in her life with new perspective. "I promise," she assured her. Mara took her word as law.

"Okay," she chirped, cheery once more. Her un -brushed red hair tangled around her thin shoulders as she stepped up on her toes to see better. "What do we do first?" She asked.

Her eagerness to forget the horrors of the past and move on astounded Asajj_. I wish I could do that,_ she thought begrudgingly. There were a great many things she would love to just forgive and forget.

"Eggs," Asajj said promptly, squinting at the small font. "We need eggs, bantha milk, two cups of that… And some oil, too," she said. At once, Mara scampered to get the ingredients, leaving Asajj to wonder if their stove would actually go with them this time and do something for a change.

"Here we go," Mara stated as she set the proffered objects down on the counter. "What do we do now?" She asked impatiently. Asajj had to smile at her excitement. In truth, she was eager too, she had never done anything like this before. "Okay, now get a bowl and a measuring cup," Ventress said. "And use the Force," she then added before Mara could move. Groaning, the young girl did as she said.

"What do we need the bowl for?" Mara asked between clenched teeth as the two glass items, placed on the top shelf where Mara could not reach them purposefully, wobble din place, tentatively carried with the force.

"To mix the stuff into," Asajj countered, unsurely. "Will it look like goop?" Mara questioned, with an expression that mingled between being appalled and interested. "Less talking, more Force manipulating," Asajj snapped, not willing to delve too deep into this. She really did not want to know _what_ it might look like once it was all mixed into one bowl.

_Speaking of bowls,_ she then thought as she heard Mara shriek as she stepped back. The measuring cup went crashing to the ground and shattered into pieces upon impact.

Chunks of glass went flying across the floor in a mosaic of clear droplets. . "Blast it! Stupid Force!" Mara yelled, cheeks flushing a hot red with frustration and guilt. She looked up with green eyes that swam with rage.

"I'm not good at it, Saji! See what happened? I'm not good at it!" She reasserted irately. Asajj sighed. There went that measuring cup. "Calm down," she ordered firmly.

"Don't cry over spilled milk. It was just a cup. You aren't _focusing,_ Mara," she reprimanded though her head spun, calculating and assessing the situation with all the efficiency of one who had lead armies and won battles.

_Why couldn't the girl do it?_ Ventress had never met a Force sensitive who didn't want to use the Force or learn more about it. It was an undeniable urge to do more, have more, create more. Why was Mara any different?

"I was too! I'm just not good at it!" Mara shouted, crossing her arms over her chest. The Force was a tornado of anger around her. She was focused _now_. Asajj stared at her inquisitively for a moment. Mara was used to using the Dark Side, but what she was doing…It wasn't Dark, exactly. Perhaps not for lack of trying, but lack of knowing.

Not taking her eyes from Mara, She cocked a brow, and gently used the force to tap her on the head with the glass bowl, now completely controlled in mid air. Mara's temper calmed a bit, though she continued to glare savagely at Asajj as she lowered the bowl to her.

"I guess we'll be putting in the ingredients without the measuring cup. Sweep up the mess," Asajj predicted, turning away. "It's going to taste nasty," Mara warned heartlessly.

"Yeah, well, whether it tastes like food from the Flying Rotisserie or one of Dex's bomban chili dogs, you're eating it," Ventress replied. "What about you?" Mara cried. Asajj smirked. "Sensitive stomach, sweetheart," she chirped over her shoulder.

Mara Jade barked out a laugh. "That isn't fair, Saji! You ate three of Dex's chili dogs last week!" She pointed out. "Slight error in judgment. I'll never make that mistake again. You, on the other hand, are young. Young stomachs will eat anything," or so she had been told.

Thoughtfully, Ventress picked up the eggs. _Now, how did I use to crack these things again?_ She wondered, remembering back to the days where she used to help Kai cook. She had been faster than him at using the force to break the eggs. At length, she shrugged. It would come to her, best use things that didn't require thought for the moment.

Languidly, Asajj picked up the milk carton and poured it into the bowl, then dumped the package of flour-like stuff into it. "Hand me a spoon, would you Mara?" she called thoughtfully.

A spoon landed next to her almost immediately. She picked it up and began trying to stir the thick flour into the milk. It refused to budge more than few centimeters in any direction.

"Hey, Saji, I've been thinking…If we keep doing those jobs that we do for the Rebels, maybe we can buy a new place. Like one of those fancy towers near the Senate Building," Mara suggested good naturedly.

"What's wrong with where we live now?" Ventress demanded indignantly, though the thought had passed her mind as well. "It's stinky, dirty and loud," Mara replied promptly. "Can't really argue with you there," Ventress admitted. "But you wouldn't like it at those fancy towers, Mara," she said. This did not dissuade the youngster in any form whatsoever.

"Then maybe we can get a house somewhere else. Just me and you," Mara looked over to her cot. "I don't mind sleeping on the cot, really, but I'd like my own room. I've never had my own room before. I slept wherever I wanted back there," she jerked her head towards where the Sith Palace sat as a regal bearing of all dictatorship in the galaxy.

Asajj stopped stirring, thinking about it for a long moment. It _would_ be nice if she could give Mara her own space. It wouldn't hurt for the girl to have something of her own, too. Gave a sense of independence. Maybe it would help with her confidence in using the Force if she could practice at it without Asajj staring over her shoulder.

After all, when she got older she would need the privacy. _But I've never lived anywhere but at places like these,_ Ventress was unsure of how well she would do in an actual _neighborhood_.

She turned her gaze to Mara, absently noting that she was thinking about this as if she intended to keep Mara forever, as if all of a sudden she were a parent. The question of _how_ long Mara would stay and just _what _their relationship was yet unanswered.

_I always said you'd make a good teacher, Asajj,_ Kai fondly reminisced. _I'll choose to ignore that,_ she determined in response. "There," Mara said sounding breathless with strain, tapping the end of the broom down on the floor with tangible satisfaction.

"Swept it all up. I can't even sense any tiny pieces. So, what does it look like?" Mara asked. Ventress returned her sight to the now lava looking pale brown substance sitting passively in the bowl. "Eggs," she muttered. "And Oil," Mara agreed, peering over her elbow.

"Can I put the oil in?" She asked. Asajj handed he the bottle. "Not too much," she cautioned. Mara scowled at her, displeasure written clearly in the expression. "I_ know_, Saji… Huh, funny. I've never seen yellow oil before," Mara popped the cap off and sniffed it, eyes widening with surprise. "It doesn't smell like engine oil. What is this stuff, Saji?" She gasped.

Asajj couldn't help but laugh. "Vegetable oil, Mara. Engine oil is for ships," she remarked. Mara blinked a few times in consternation. "You mean there are different types?" She gasped. Ventress smiled so widely her cheeks hurt. It seemed that even unconsciously Mara always knew how to make her laugh.

"Dozens," she answered, picking up an egg between two fingers to inspect it. It couldn't be all that hard. She just needed to remember how to do it correctly. In truth Asajj had not made her own breakfast in years either.

she had always either skipped eating as a general whole or just grabbed something quick. She was finding that it was more rewarding to _make_ the stuff by hand, even if I did look like goop.

Mara, meanwhile, was watching the oil gush from its bottle with fascination. "Hey Saji?" She hummed contentedly. Her eyes were twinkling as she poured the oil into the bowl. "How many types of oil are there?" She asked.

"I don't know. A lot," Ventress gently tapped the egg on the counter, watching hairline fractures protrude around the shell. Okay, a little harder, then. "Which ones do you know about?" Mara continued.

"Hmm," well, the shell seemed hard enough. Maybe…Ventress unclipped her saber from her belt and swapped it so that the backend was facing the egg. Lightsabers, she had noted, worked just as well if they were used as hammers, opposed to swords.

"Well, there's Bantha oil, vegetable oil, Seema oil, Scrow oil, engine oil, speeder oil, caf oil," without further ado, Ventress aggressively slammed the hilt of her saber into the eggs in a quick procession.

And received a face full of egg yolk.

_Well, that was good._ Suddenly, Mara let out a short squeak, and jumped, when a few droplets splattered her back. Her sudden spike of fright in the Force disrupted the bowl's equilibrium. Ventress turned just as Mara ducked against the accidental projectile her uncontrolled Force spear had created.

The contents of the oil soaked bowl ran right into Asajj, coating her face and head with sticky, gooey messiness. _Are you serious?_ She thought, oddly detached from any feelings of anger or frustration. "Saji!" She heard Mara cry, not having seen what had happened.

"Saji, did you see that? I made the bowl move! I made the…" Since she could not see anything past the bowl that decorated her face, Asajj assumed that, Mara turned around in time to notice just where the bowl and its contents had gone.

"Wow!" Mara gasped. "Oops, sorry, Saji! Sorry! Here, I got it!" Ventress felt the bowl being pulled from her face. The suction tugged at her lips and she wondered what would happen when the bowl was taken away.

"Eek!" Mara gasped as the now released contents spilled over her body and the floor. "Hey!" She cried passionately. "It does look like goop! Yuck! It almost got in my hair," Mara looked up from the mess. She grinned, the brilliance of it mimicking the warmth of Tatooine's twin sun's. Her green eyes sparkled mischievously.

"I think it looks nice on you, Saji. It even matches your style," she giggled. It took a minute for Ventress to realize that Mara had just teased her. "My style?" She demanded in an indignant squeak.

"Sure," Mara gigged, raising a small hand to cover her mouth as if she were trying to hide her amusement. "I think you should wear it every day," she said. Ventress stared at the young girl, unaware of how she should take this. She knew that few years earlier, she probably would have already killed Mara for such an outrage against her person, but now she was not angry, exactly, or even more than a tad annoyed.

She was actually considering teasing Mara back, as if there were anything funny about the mess all over the kitchen floor. Unsure, and not exactly confident that Mara knew what to say either, she merely looked herself up and down, and sighed.

Secretly, Asajj suspected that she had always wanted this, yet she had never thought before that she need it. Teasingly or otherwise, this let down of the protective shell she had built around herself to survive first the grief of Kai's death and then the torture which was Dooku, this vulnerability was something she both feared and yearned for. Now she needed it, and the experience of needing anything at all was enough to make her heart pound. "Well, since you like it so much," she began slowly.

"Maybe _you_ should try some!" And with a swat of the Force, she splashed the paste that was lying dormant on the floor over Mara, coating the front of her nightclothes in a gooey dripping mess of mauve batter.

Mara stared, open-mouthed, at the playful show of affection that coated her front, flabbergasted. Ventress began to worry that she had miscalculated. She wasn't used to… Being so open with anyone.

And besides, what could she have been thinking? What if she had disturbed Mara's wound again?

"Mara, I…" she began, feeling ashamed and apologetic. Before she could get the rest of the sentence out though, Mara suddenly grinned from ear to ear and dove between her legs.

"Oh, yeah?" the young girl challenged, scooping up a handful of dough from the ground as she wiggled past, flexible and fast as a tiny squirrel.

"Well, take this! " Ventress inhaled sharply, stumbling forward as a ball of batter was catapulted with strength against her back. "Hey!" She squawked, twisting around. Her feet slipped beneath her and she staggered for a moment, wondering how she was going to move about with batter on the floor, coating it with both stickiness and slipperiness.

"Get back here, you little weasel!" She called (surprising herself as well as Mara) when Mara, laughing, ducked back the way she had come, all the while pelting Asajj with unbidden blasts of batter.

Asajj couldn't help but laugh as the soft melting ball were splashed into her face and chest. The batter was blasted _cold_, and she could half feel it hardening unto her skin. Usually the very thought would be enough to make her cringe in disgust, but now...

Now she couldn't have cared less. A burst of energized competitiveness tingled through her veins when she heard Mara's high pitched giggles. They burst within her heart as tiny bubbles of light. Light amongst the darkness she was so fond of. No youngling was going to beat her, whether at a stupid game or not!

_Imagine if Dooku could see me now! _Ventress thought, euphoric with this new freedom that expanded from her heart down to her toes. For one of the first times since Kai had died, Asajj Ventress felt real joy.

In this moment she was happy to be alive. Right here and now with the young red-head playing battlefield with pancake dough all over them both on the floor of her dirty kitchen.

There was no other better place to be. Ventress would not _want _to be anywhere else, she didn't need to _be _anything else. That knowledge was enough to make her cackle with mad delight. She was _free_ of Dooku, _free_ of the Jedi, free of the Sith, _free _of the anger and anguish and shame and pain. She didn't _need_ it anymore.

She wasn't a puppet anymore. She was Asajj and if she wanted to kriffing wrestle with a child on the ground covered in pancake batter then she would, and she didn't give a kriff to what anyone had to say about it!

At last, the strategy she would use becoming clear as the seconds ticked past, as if she had been born knowing this but had only forgotten for a time, she finally slipped to her knees and grabbed the young girl jumping about as if she had wings on her tiny feet.

Mara's skin was slippery and warm to the touch. Asajj felt such a joy in her heart it banished all other cares. Recklessly, she decided that the messiness that inhabited the young girl wasn't enough for Asajj. "If I have to be this messed up!" She crowed victoriously as she purposefully smeared more batter all over Mara's face and neck, tickling as she went.

Mara giggled and squealed, trying unsuccessfully to wriggle from Ventress's iron grip as they wrestled on the floor. "So do you!" She mock growled, making sure Mara had a fine coat underneath her ticklish knees.

"Saji!" Mara gasped, laughing, twisting and wriggling like an eel in a fisher's net. Asajj did not relinquish her grip nor cease her ministrations. Cheerfully, she went on with it, having the time of her life, feeling as giddy as Mara did. Their combined glee shone within the force like a candle in a dark room.

Asajj didn't notice. "Do you surrender?" She inquired smoothly. "Yes, yes!" Mara screamed. Ventress, with a single nod, released the youngster. "And don't you forget it," she agreed firmly.

Mara scrambled away, gasping out curses in Huttese. Ventress sat back on her heels contentedly, listening to the sound of her friend's high pitched giggles. "I think_ that_ lesson will stick," she chirped ironically, swiping away some of the dust now coating her skin. She smiled lightly. She would never be able to wear this outfit again.

Which meant that she could go shopping. It had been a long time since she had ever wanted anything new for herself or anyone else. She had almost entirely forgotten what the inside of a clothing store looked like. "You're bad at making pancakes, Saji," Mara informed her, with a snicker.

Ventress laughed and took a swipe at Mara's foot. The girl squeaked and jumped back, sticking out her tongue teasingly. "I did better than you did!" Asajj yelled. "Did not! I put the oil in!" Mara defended back, feigning anger. The amusement twinkling in her eyes belied that. "You dumped it on my head!" Ventress pointed out.

"So? Your head was in the way! And you broke an egg wrong!" Mara quipped back. Ventress could only laugh and nod as she leaned back unto her elbows, stretching her legs out beneath her.

"We'll go eating at Dex's for breakfast today," She decided, on the whim. Mara perked up and studied her thoughtfully, as if she were trying to deduce whether she were joking or not. "Can we listen to stories?" She wondered cautiously. Ventress studied the youngster back. In truth, there were other things she could be doing. People to capture, money to earn, an Empire to exact her revenge upon…

"Why not?" she said, not caring about any of it. Those words seemed to cement her standing in Mara's mind as the greatest being ever to live. "Whoo hoo! Thank you, thank you, Saji!" She suddenly cried, throwing her arms about Asajj's neck with a crushing grip.

Taken aback, Ventress nearly fell over, but managed to catch them both in time before she ended up on her back. One hand patted Mara's shoulder awkwardly while the other kept them upright. She was still new to this, granted.

"Yeah, uh, sure, Mara…Sure," she mumbled, feeling embarrassed by the sudden increase of positive attention. The mortification was yet to end, though. Mara's grip on her neck tightened.

"I love you, Saji," she heard the child whisper against her ear. The force twinkled with her sincerity. This new fact astonished-and confused-Asajj so thoroughly she could only splutter.

Quite mysteriously, Ventress then found herself with both a lump in her throat, wet eyes, and her mind emptied itself of all words that she knew, and in all languages, too. Her eyes widened. How could Mara…?

She didn't want to think about it, and she doubted the youngster would have had a reason to give her even if she would have asked. She doubted that Mara believed that she needed a reason to love Asajj.

Such was the fidelity of children.

"Sure, kid," her voice cracked, but her arm wrapped itself around Mara and squeezed tightly, returning the words in favor. "Sure."


End file.
